


For Your Safety - Part Two

by IAmTheNightman98



Series: For Your Safety [2]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Cop AU, F/F, Lesbian AU, Varying Rating, out of chronological order, unrelated one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-04-12 12:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19131958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmTheNightman98/pseuds/IAmTheNightman98
Summary: A collection of un-related oneshots from the For Your Safety universe.These mini-fics will all be of varying length and at different points thoughout the story/ a continuation of where FYS left off.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa’s relationship with Brooke is the subject of gossip between the other girls, but she’s confident that she’s always been a good judge of character.

The Canadian winter is unforgiving.

 

You’d think, after four months, Vanessa would’ve gotten used to the climate here, but she’s beginning to think that it’s not possible. 

 

It’s the type of cold that you feel deep in your bones. It doesn’t matter how many vigorously she rubs her skin, how many cups of shitty gas station coffee she drinks, how hard she prays. Here, standing on this street corner, exposed to the elements, warmth isn’t an option. 

 

Aside from the cold, Vanessa is gradually becoming accustomed to the lifestyle here. The girls who work the streets are as friendly as can be expected when meeting a newcomer, but they seem to be warming to her. The small apartment she shares with Yvie isn’t much, but it she’s starting to settle in more and more with each passing day. And the Canadian clientele seem to have an appreciation for exotic women, so she’s making decent money. Considering the fact that she had dreaded moving to Canada, there isn’t actually much that she would change. 

 

Other than the fucking temperature. 

 

Vanessa blows into her hand in a half hearted attempt to regain the feeling in her fingertips and stave off the shivers. Shaking from the cold isn’t a particularly attractive look, or so she’s heard. The sun is just beginning to set, which means the night will only get colder, but on the plus side, the darkness usually brings an influx of clients, so at last she can look forwards to spending half an hour in the relative warmth of the backseat of somebody’s car. 

 

“Vanjie, right?” Vanessa hears a voice call from behind her, followed by the gentle clacking of heels. 

 

Sceptically, she turns to the voice, crosses her arms over her body and quirks her eyebrow. “Who wants to know?”

 

The woman smirks and holds her hands up playfully in defence. “Relax, Miss Thing,” she smiles, “I ain’t looking for trouble.”

 

“Mmhmm?” Vanessa adjusts her stance into a slightly more powerful one, squaring her shoulders pointedly.

 

The woman laughs. “You’re a feisty one. I can see why the men like you.”

 

Vanessa sighs briefly. She hasn’t got time for this. The sooner she gets picked up by a client, the sooner she gets out of the cold. “Do you need something?”

 

She shakes her head and smiles again. “I just wanted to introduce myself, baby.” She holds her hand out for Vanessa to shake. “A’keria.”

 

“Vanjie.” Vanessa nods politely.

 

“That your real name?”

 

“What do you think?”

 

Vanessa likes making friends as much as the next, but her years on the streets have taught her to be sceptical. It’s difficult, always having to view kindness with a critical eye, but it keeps her safe. “So are you just here to kiki or…? Cause I think we both have things we can be gettin on with.” 

 

A’keria  darts her eyes around the street they occupy, then takes a small step closer. “You’re the one that’s getting all up close and personal with the cop, right? The blonde?”

 

A blush creeps up Vanessa’s cheeks and her eyebrows furrow in anger. “It ain’t even like that. We’re friends.”

 

Now, its A’keria’s turn to view Vanessa with skepticism. “Well, whatever it is, I’d tread lightly if I were you.” 

 

Vanessa’s fists clench at her sides and she opens her mouth to yell, but A’keria holds up her hands before she has the chance. 

 

“Listen baby, that’s not a threat - it’s a warning.”

 

“I don’t got time for-“

 

“Vanjie,” A’keria says softly, “there ain’t many people out here to look after us girls, so we gotta do our best to look out for each other. I know you think that getting involved with an officer is gonna help, but one way or another, these typa things come back and bite you on the ass.”

 

Vanessa knows what A’keria is warning against. The same thing used to happen back in Tampa. Girls would think that if they get on a cop’s good side, that they’d be protected from any legal repercussions. But what happened more often was that the cop would panic about the implications of being involved with a working girl and bring the full force of the law down on them twice as hard. Or sometimes, even worse than that, cops would use the threat of arrest to elicit sexual favours without payment. This isn’t Vanessa’s first rodeo. She knows how dangerous these things can be. 

 

“Brooke ain’t,” she starts, then corrects herself, “Officer Hytes ain’t like that. She coulda arrested me twenty times over if she wanted to. She doesn’t make me do anything I don’t wanna do. I trust her.”

 

“Trust is sweet and all, but it’s dangerous.”

 

“Don’t you think I know that?” Vanessa snaps, then takes a deep breath to calm herself. 

 

A’keria sighs and wraps her arms tightly around herself. “Officer Hytes is one of the good ones. She ain’t the type to arrest bitches left right and centre. She’s got that whole scary bitch vibe, but all the girls out here know she’s gotta good heart.”

 

“Exactly!” Vanessa agrees triumphantly.

 

“But that don’t mean you shouldn’t be careful.”

 

This conversation could carry on in circles for a very long time. Vanessa can’t bring herself to see anything but innocence in Brooke’s actions, and she’s pretty sure she won’t be able to convince A’keria to drop her cynicism. Nevertheless, Vanessa appreciates the thought. It’s not often that she sees actions of genuine empathy and concern anymore. 

 

“I know what I’m getting myself in for,” Vanessa tells her.

 

A’keria smirks and shakes her head. “Whatever you say, Mamacita.”

 

-x-

 

Vanessa likes to think that she’s a pretty good judge of character. 

 

When she’d first met Brooke and she’d spent the night eating takeout rather than freezing in jail, she decided that Brooke was a person she could trust. She could’ve been needlessly cruel, or even just painful nonchalant, but instead she’d shown how much compassion and understanding she has. 

 

Realistically, she knows that the occasional milkshakes and trips in the cop car to get her out of the cold probably don’t mean much to Brooke, but to Vanessa, they mean the world. Having someone to just hang out with and be herself around for a few hours, without having to keep up the pretence of being soft and sultry, is doing wonders for her mental health. Plus, she’s definitely, unashamedly, harbouring a raging crush on the older woman. 

 

Not only is there the obvious fact that she’s stunningly gorgeous, with her sleek platinum bob and legs that go on for miles, and not only does Vanessa have a thing for women in uniform, there’s also the fact that Vanessa thinks Brooke may be one of the sweetest, kindest people she has ever met. 

 

For the sake of her reputation as a credible police officer, Brooke likes to pretend she’s a hard ass. Or rather, she’s firm but fair. She’s understanding enough to turn a blind eye to the occasional infraction, but abuse her good nature and you’ll see an array of repercussions. One the outside, she’s reserved and closed off, but Vanessa thinks she knows better. 

 

The Brooke that she gets to see is soft and warm. She choses popping candy as an ice cream topping because she likes the sound it makes. She wanted to be a ballerina as a kid. She brings Vanessa food every week without fail and never asks for anything but her company in return. These are all the things that make Vanessa certain she’d made the right judgement when weighing Brooke up all those months ago. 

 

So, the first time she hears from Brooke after the conversation with A’keria, when she starts feeling the tiniest sliver of self doubt - it’s hard. 

 

_ There’s a nice spot out by Lake Ontario that I think you’d like. We could drive out there next time you’re free, if you’d like to? _

 

Two days ago, Vanessa’s stomach would’ve been filled with butterflies at a text like this, but today, the doubt creeps in. 

 

What if Brooke has been playing the long game and wants to drive her out to the lake for sinister purposes? It’s sure to be dark and quiet out there. No witnesses. No one to hear her scream. 

 

Vanessa is in the process of making a list of all the potential ways in which Brooke could chose to kill her, when she receives another text that makes her heart melt. 

 

It’s a picture of Brooke’s cat, with the caption ‘Henry thinks you’d like the lake too!’

 

In an instant, Vanessa is taken back to her night in Brooke’s apartment. During the movie they’d watched, Brooke had fallen asleep on Vanessa’s shoulder. Snaked her arm around Vanessa’s waist - she’d blushed feverishly when she’d realised what she’d done. Then, she’d let Vanessa creep into her bed in the dead of night. She hadn’t protested when Vanessa had placed a delicate hand on her hip, or tangled their legs together. Instead, she’d sighed softly in content and leant into her touch. 

 

Brooke’s intentions are as pure as pure can be. She’s had ample opportunity to show her dark side, if only she had one.

 

Vanessa chuckles softly as she realises how foolish she’d been to doubt her. 

 

_ Sure thing, baby! You know where to find me. xoxo  _ She replies without a second thought. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a very small introduction to the collection so that I can gague a level of interest! I will publish new chapters every so often, until I run out of prompts/ request, but then I will happily be accepting more on tumblr at youre-a-kite. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke and Vanessa finally meet their daughter.

Flowers are beautiful. Handcrafted vases with dainty swirling patterns are stunning. Lighting storms and fireflies and the way Vanessa dusts her cheeks with a delicate pink rouge are all things that Brooke will never fail to find bewitching. 

 

But some things are so truly astounding, that their beauty cannot be put into words. There are things that no matter how hard you try, you will never, ever be able to describe the breath taking awe that you feel in their presence. 

 

Olivia is one of those things. 

 

The very second Brooke lays eyes on her, she falls in love. 

 

Her blue eyes, that seem to sparkle with the power of every star in the sky, are captivating. Brooke can’t look away. Her face is pink and screwed up with tears. Her tiny little fingers and toes flex as they explore the new space around her. 

 

Vanessa is crying, of course. She cried for most of the journey to Ottawa. Happy tears. Excited tears. Panicked ‘oh-fuck-what-if-we-can’t-do-this’ tears. The full spectrum of emotions, all embodied in the tears dried to her cheeks. Right now, Vanessa probably doesn’t even know what she’s crying for. But Brooke doesn’t blame her, since she’s crying too. 

 

“Hi, baby girl,” Brooke whispers. She has one strong arm wrapped around Vanessa, grounding her, and the other delicately stroking their daughter’s hand where she lays in the hospital crib. “We’re your mommies.”

 

-x-

 

They had almost missed her birth. 

 

Vanessa had insisted that they leave Toronto a week before Olivia’s due date, but as fate would have it, less than an hour after they’d left the house, the baby’s birth mother had called to say she’d gone into labour. She had joked with them, saying that the baby must’ve known they were coming and so she wanted to arrive sooner, but Brooke didn’t laugh. She had to pull the car over to the side of the road to prevent herself from having a panic attack at the wheel. 

 

To say that the three weeks that passed between getting the call about Olivia and setting off to Ottawa had been intense, would be the understatement of the century. Brooke had barely slept. She’d read every parenting book she could get her hands on. The apartment had been piled high with boxes and furniture and gifts from the impromptu baby shower. It had been utter mayhem. There hadn’t been time to stop or think or breathe. 

 

So, when they’d gotten the call to tell them Olivia would be here sooner than expected, something inside Brooke had snapped. The sudden realisation that this was the moment their lives would change for good brought with it such a rush of emotions that it felt as though someone had pulled the rug from beneath her feet and she’d fallen into a hurricane. 

 

Vanessa had been there the entire time. Her entire body was twitching with an erratic, anxious energy. The desperation to get to their daughter as quickly as possible must’ve been eating her alive. But she didn’t rush or get angry, she simply drew Brooke into her arms and gently stroked her back until she was able to regain her composure. Then, when Brooke’s breathless pants had turned to soft hiccups, she’d kissed her on the head, looked her in the eye and promised her that this was going to be the best day of their lives.

 

Brooke had never, ever, loved Vanessa more. 

 

-x-

 

“Have you settled on a name?” the nurse asks them from across the room.

 

“Olivia,” Vanessa beams, without turning her gaze away from the crib. 

 

Olivia’s birth mother has been moved to another ward whilst she recovers, getting ready to be discharged. Getting ready to leave without her baby. Brooke’s heart breaks for her, but the girl had been so strong and courageous. 

 

Brooke had been present for most of Vanessa’s long, in depth phone conversations with their daughter’s birth mother, even if she hadn’t contributed much. They’d learnt that the girl is only in her early twenties, but knew without a doubt that motherhood would not be for her. She was spurred to give her daughter up for adoption by an entirely selfless desire to make sure that she had the best life possible, with two parents to love and cherish her. When the first couple had had to back out of the adoption, she’d been devastated, but she believes that it had worked out for the best since she was able to find Vanessa and Brooke as a result. 

 

The girl had only held Olivia for a few minutes. She’d told Olivia how much her mommies are going to love and adore her, then asked Brooke and Vanessa to promise that when the time comes to tell her about the adoption, that they will make sure Olivia knows how much the woman who brought her into the world truly cared for her. They’d made the promise without hesitation. 

 

When the girl had said her bittersweet goodbyes and her hospital bed was wheeled from the room, for the first time, Brooke and Vanessa were alone with their daughter. For the first time, they were parents. 

 

“How precious,” the nurse smiles back. 

 

Brooke appreciates all the support that nurses have given them throughout their first few hours with their daughter, but she doesn’t have the energy to talk. She doesn’t have the energy to do anything other than hold one arm around Vanessa, and rest the other on the edge of the crib, whilst they stare in awe at their baby girl. The labour had been long, and it’s now the middle of the night, but neither of them will sleep. They will watch over her for the rest of the night, breathing in time with the steady rise and fall of her chest. 

 

They will watch over her for the rest of her life. 

 

Brooke thinks that if she never sleeps again, just so that she doesn’t miss a single thing Olivia does, it would be worth it. 

 

-x-

 

When Olivia is ready to leave the hospital, Vanessa worries that it’s too soon. 

 

“What if you just keep her here for one more night? She’ll be safer in the hospital.” 

 

Brooke squeezes her wife’s hand reassuringly. She’s terrified too, but she also knows that they can’t put off the inevitable for much longer. Sooner or later, they’re going to be on their own, without the supportive crutch of the medical staff, so they may as well face up to it now. 

 

Vanessa still worries, but Brooke promises her that the worrying is only natural and as soon as they’re alone with with their baby, everything is going to fall into place. 

 

Eventually, they decide on a compromise of staying in a hotel close to the hospital instead of driving back to Toronto straight away. That way they can bring her straight back if they need to. If it’s going to take baby steps for Vanessa to gain confidence in their parenting abilities, Brooke is more than willing to be by her side through it all. 

 

-x-

 

“Can you believe she’s ours?” Vanessa whispers into the darkness. 

 

Brooke groans softly and glances at the clock on the bedside table. “Ness, it’s four in the morning.” 

 

Vanessa is perched on the end of the bed, peering into Olivia’s travel crib. Brooke loves her wife more than anything in the world, but Vanessa hasn’t slept in two days, and she seems to be determined to make Brooke stay awake with her. 

 

“I know, I know,” she concedes. She’s quiet for less than a minute before she speaks again, “but like, can you believe it? It feels like a dream or some shit.” 

 

Brooke chuckles softly and sits up in bed. She runs her hand through her hair, which is tangled up from sleep, and takes in the sight before her. Vanessa’s petite frame in oversized pyjamas, sitting cross legged, watching over their daughter. It’s so utterly perfect, a lump forms in her throat. “I know what you mean,” she whispers. 

 

Brooke shuffles to the edge of the bed, wraps her arms around Vanessa’s waist from behind, then drops a kiss into the crook of her neck. “You know, they say that when she’s sleeping, we should be sleeping.”

 

“I know,” Vanessa mumbles groggily, “but maybe we could just watch her for five more minutes.”

 

It’s the same thing she’s been saying just about every five minutes all night. 

 

“Five more minutes,” Brooke agrees with a grin. 

 

When the five minutes is almost up, Brooke feels Vanessa’s weight pressing more firmly against her side. Her head rests gently on Brooke’s shoulder and her breathing is beginning to even out. Brooke circles her arms around Vanessa’s waist, ready to haul her sleeping form into bed properly, but receives a grumble in response. “I still have one more minute.”

 

“Baby, your eyes aren’t even open.”

 

“Yes they are,” she lies.

 

Brooke smiles warmly and shakes her head. “Come on,” she insists, “you need to sleep. You can see her in the morning.”

 

Vanessa relents to Brooke’s instance and allows herself to be tucked into bed. One leg tucked between Brooke’s, her arm slung over her waist, her face burrowed in her neck. 

 

She’s asleep within minutes. 

 

In the final moments before Brooke scumbs to sleep herself, she pulls Vanessa tightly against her chest and runs her fingers through her soft hair. She mulls over what Vanessa had said, about this feeling like some kind of dream, and decides that if this is a dream, she never wants to wake up. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter has been worth the wait. I’m planning on uploading much more of them with their daughter soon, so watch this space!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke takes Vanessa to her first Pride march.

“Just ask her,” Nina groans down the phone for the fourth time this morning.

 

“I can’t just  _ ask  _ her. What would I even say?” Brooke frets, tugging at the loose strings on the hem of her t-shirt. 

 

“Walk up to her bedroom, knock on the door, and say ‘Vanessa, would you like to come to Pride with me and my friends, and also I’m in love with you’”

 

“Nina!” Brooke hisses sharply, whipping her head around to make sure that somehow Vanessa hasn’t overheard. “Anyways, I’m not in love with her,” she lies. 

 

Nina’s chuckle in response brings a gentle blush to Brooke’s cheeks. Brooke knows that if she could see her in person right now, she’d be quirking her eyebrow in the ‘sure, you don’t’ kind of way. “Stop being a baby and just ask her!”

 

“But what if she doesn’t-“

 

“Ask her!”

 

“Maybe you could come round and-“

 

“Ask! Her!”

 

Brooke opens her mouth to protest but Nina beats her to it. “If the next words out of your mouth aren’t ‘yes, Nina, I’m going to go and ask my sexy new roommate to come to Pride with us because there is literally no reason not to’ then I don’t want to hear them,” she scholds, then ends the call with a quick “love you, bye.”

 

Once the call has disconnected, Brooke is left sitting on the end of her bed, staring blankly at the handset. 

 

Vanessa has only been living with her for a couple of months and Brooke is still trying to navigate the parameters of their relationship. It’s still unclear to Brooke how involved in each other’s lives they’re supposed to be. Vanessa is fiercely independent, so maybe she doesn’t want them to be the type of roommates that do everything together. And what if Vanessa thinks that Brooke is trying to suggest that they go to Pride together as something other than friends?

 

What if that’s exactly what Brooke wants to suggest, but would never have the balls to do so?

 

Brooke glances at the time on her phone and realises that there’s less than an hour before she has to leave. “Fuck it,” she mumbles, and walks quickly to Vanessa’s room before she can change her mind. 

 

She taps her knuckles gently on Vanessa’s door and rocks anxiously on her heels as she waits for her response. 

 

“It’s open,” Vanessa calls back. 

 

When Brooke opens the door, she realises that she hasn’t actually been in this room since Vanessa moved in, and she’s surprised by how much it’s changed. Before, the room has been basic and impersonal, but now it’s bubbling with life. An assortment of stiletto heels form a pile in the corner. The bedsheets are crumpled, not tucked in at the edges with Brooke’s usual precision. And the entire room smells faintly of vanilla, from the small diffuser on the window ledge. 

 

Vanessa is sat at her desk, hunched over her mirror to apply her makeup and when she swivels round to face the door, Brooke is acutely aware of how strange her clothing choices must seem. A white t-shirt with pink striped flag across the front, paired with denim shorts and high top converse, which have the laces switched out for rainbow ones. Her short blonde hair is pulled back into two small buns and her cheeks are dusted with glitter. 

 

Vanessa raises a questioning eyebrow. “You here to tell me you’re running away with the circus or somethin’?”

 

Brooke laughs and shakes her head, “no, its um- it’s the Pride march in Toronto today and I was wondering if you wanted to-“

 

Vanessa’s excited squeal nearly deafens her.

 

“- I take it that’s a yes?”

 

-x- 

 

Less than an hour later, they’re taking the short walk from Brooke’s apartment, no - their apartment- to where the parade begins in the centre of town. 

 

Vanessa has chosen to wear shorts and a cropped t-shirt, which is going to make it incredibly difficult for Brooke to stop ogling her throughout the day, and her arms and chest are covered in glitter. She keeps up a steady stream of chatter throughout the walk, which Brooke is grateful of, since she thinks that if she tried to speak in anything more than short sentences it would come out in a flustered jumble of nonsense. 

 

Nina and Vanessa hit it off in an instant, just like Brooke knew they would. Vanessa is almost too easy to love. She has an all consuming energy that sucks in everyone around her and forces them to admire the ease with which she slides into any situation. Nina gives Brooke a smirk of approval, which is quickly met with Brooke’s warning glare, as she’s afraid Vanessa will notice.

 

They spend the day laughing and chatting and dancing with strangers, enjoying being swept up in yer hustle and bustle of the parade. Oddly, Brooke actually manages to forget about her internal anguish obverse the state of her and Vanessa’s relationship and allows herself to simply feel free and in the moment. It’s liberating. 

 

When she sees Vanessa throwing her head back in laughter as she watches a small child chasing bubbles, Brooke teeters dangerously close to just snapping, pulling Vanessa into her arms and kissing her senseless. Nina is there, patting Brooke knowingly on the shoulder and offering her a sympathetic smile, then nudging her to make a move. 

 

But Brooke won’t, not unless she’s one hundred percent, absolutely sure that its what Vanessa wants too. 

 

-x-

 

Around half way through the day, Vanessa’s energy seems to dip and Brooke notices her picking at the edges of her nail polish. In an effort not to draw any attention to Vanessa’s subdued manner, Brooke moves in close to Vanessa’s side and nudges her arm softly. “You okay?”

 

Vanessa shrugs her shoulders and smiles in a way that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You know, I’ve never been to Pride before, but one time me and Yvie drove all the way from Tampa to New Orleans for Mardi Gras because she wanted to see all the costumes and shit.”

 

Brooke sighs softly. “You miss her,” she concludes.

 

Vanessa shrugs again, “I don’t know. She left me without saying goodbye. I know I’m supposed to be mad at her, but it just feels weird that she aint here, you know. She’d love all this.”

 

“You should call her.”

 

“What?”

 

“She’s your best friend and you miss her. Trust me when I say that it’s way too easy to spend all your time wrapped up, wishing you had the balls to do something that you really want to do. So if you miss her, just pick up the phone and give her a call. You’ll never know what will happen if you don’t try.”

 

It’s funny, giving Vanessa advice, telling her to do the exact thing that Brooke will never do herself. 

 

Vanessa nods her head as she processes Brooke’s words. “Damn, Mami, maybe you shoulda been a life coach instead of a cop.” 

 

Brooke chuckles and shakes her head. “Maybe.” 

 

Now would be the perfect opportunity to tell Vanessa how she feels. And for the briefest of moments, Brooke thinks she might forget everything she knows about anxiety and self- doubt so that she can bite the bullet and put her heart on the line. 

 

But then Vanessa’s gaze drifts to somewhere behind Brooke and her eyes light up with excitement. “Follow me,” she grins, then grabs Brooke’s hand and leads her in a winding path through the crowds. 

 

“Slow down!” Brooke laughs, trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other instead of the feeling of Vanessa’s impossibly soft skin. 

 

When they eventually come to a stop, Vanessa is pointing triumphantly at a street vendor selling gigantic Pride flags. She’s grinning from ear to ear. Brooke buys the biggest flag they sell. 

 

Impulsively, when she’s pulling the flag from its packaging, she decides to take it by two corners, wrap it around the back of Vanessa’s shoulders, then tie the corners in a bow beneath her chin. Vanessa giggles bashfully and untucks her hair that’s caught in the collar of the makeshift cape, then gives Brooke a twirl. “How do I look?” 

 

_ Fucking beautiful. Like a dream. Like someone that I would very very much like to have as my girlfriend.  _

 

“It’s perfect,” Brooke beams.

 

-x-

 

_ Five years later. _

 

“Hold still, mija,” Vanessa pleads with the small girl perched on the coffee table across from where she sits on the sofa, “I’m nearly finished.”

 

Olivia squirms regardless, giggling and turning her cheek away from Vanessa’s hand. “But mama, it tickles,” she tells her through screechy laughter. 

 

Vanessa huffs in frustration and looks over her shoulder at Brooke for help, but Brooke simply shakes her head and laughs in response. “I told you she wouldn’t sit still,” she gloats. 

 

Vanessa sighs and strokes Olivia’s hair away from her face, looking at the wobbly attempt at a rainbow drawn in face paint on the young girls cheek. “I guess this is as good as its getting, hmm?” she smirks, and Olivia flashes her a wide, toothy grin in response. 

 

Brooke pecks Vanessa’s cheek and ruffles Olivia’s unruly hair. “It looks beautiful,” she tells them. “Now, go put your shoes on baby, it’s time for us to leave.” As Olivia scampers away to find her shoes, Brooke catches a glimpse of her t-shirt which reads ‘I love my mommies’ - a gift from her aunt Nina. 

 

She’s too young to understand what Pride is, or why it’s so important, but Brooke and Vanessa want her to be a part of it nonetheless. They want more than anything, especially now that she’s coming up to preschool age, for her to understand that even though her family might be different from other kids, it doesn’t make them any less special. They want to teach their daughter that kindness and love and acceptance are a part of their lives every single day. 

 

“Hey,” Vanessa nudges Brooke, snapping her from her thoughts, “I’ve got something for you.”

 

Brooke grins with anticipation as Vanessa pulls out an old shoe box from beneath the coffee table. When she lifts the lid, she sees what appears to be just a pile of fabric. “What’s this?” she laughs, pulling it from the box. But as she realises what she’s holding, the laughter stops. 

 

It’s faded and the corners are a little frayed, but Brooke would recognise this anywhere. It’s the flag that she’d bought for Vanessa at her very first Pride. “Oh, Ness,” she sighs softly, “you kept it.”

 

“I did,” she grins back.

 

“For all these years?” Brooke strokes the flag in disbelief. 

 

“For all these years,” Vanessa confirms. 

 

Brooke kisses her softly on the lips, then on the forehead. “I love you,” she whispers. 

 

“I love you too, baby.” 

 

Vanessa then takes a small step away, straightens her shoulders and tilts her chin up slightly. Brooke chuckles, wipes an escaped tear from beneath her eye, then ties the flag around Vanessa’s neck creating a beautiful rainbow cape, just as she had done all those years ago. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three updates in three days? Can you tell I have no life?
> 
> This chapter came from a prompt on tumblr, so let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The harsh winter takes it’s toll on Vanessa and she gets sick, luckily, Brooke is there to protect her from the worst of it.

During the first week of December, Brooke stares out into the frosty, deserted streets of Toronto and decides that blizzard season is in full swing. 

 

For the most part, the streets are empty, but she’s out on patrol nonetheless, because every couple of days, she will see a lone figure standing out in the snow. 

 

Vanessa. 

 

It’s been just over two weeks since Vanessa’s night in Brooke’s apartment, and Brooke still isn’t entirely sure of the nature of their friendship. The only thing she knows for sure is that Vanessa seems to be determined to give her a stress-induced heart attack, by refusing to get out of the cold. 

 

Brooke truly thinks that if there were a way for her to anonymously give Vanessa enough cash so that she doesn’t have to be on the streets for the rest of winter, she would do it, since it would probably be easier than worrying about her every single night. 

 

Tonight is no different than any other and when Brooke pulls up onto Vanessa’s regular street corner, she’s standing there, huddled in a boarded up doorway, her usually voluminous hair hanging in limp waves around her face.

 

She looks terrible. Cold and hungry and completely under dressed. Surprisingly however, instead of her usual short skirt, she’s wearing jeans, but they’re frayed and worn and clearly offer no protection against the cold. Brooke pulls over the car, cursing softly to herself as she rolls down the passenger side window. 

 

“You lookin’ for a date, officer?” Vanessa laughs, the corners of her mouth quirked up in a wry smile even though she’s shivering violently. 

 

Brooke grits her teeth and doesn’t take the bait. It’s freezing and the less time she has to spend with the window open, the better. “It’s snowing,” Brooke tells her, as though the fact that she’s practically freezing to death is lost on her. 

 

“No shit.” 

 

This close, Brooke can see that Vanessa’s lips have started to turn blue and her whole body is shaking. She’s also got a horrible cough, one that wracks her whole body.

 

“Get in the car,” Brooke sighs softly. 

 

Vanessa gratefully accepts and climbs into the passenger seat without hesitation. They sit there in silence for a few minutes as she holds her hands up right next to the vents, warming herself in their heat. 

 

“I’m going to drive you home,” Brooke tells her, in a tone that she hopes suggests that this isn’t up for debate.

 

Vanessa nods, taking a deep shaky breath, then she’s coughing, her body rattling violently. Brooke reaches out to rub her back tentatively, sliding her fingers down the hard, too pronounced bumps of her spine. Brooke then shrugs off her coat and drapes it over Vanessa’s shoulders, in an effort to help her warm up. The harsh chill hits her instantly, but she grits her teeth and bares it. 

 

She keeps rubbing Vanessa’s back even after the coughing subsides. Vanessa’s sighs and leans into Brooke’s touch, and in an instant Brooke is taken back to the night that Vanessa stayed in her apartment. When Vanessa had curled up behind her in bed and dragged her thumb over the exposed sliver of skin at her hip. 

 

Then Vanessa starts to cough again, and Brooke is forcefully snapped from the memory. 

 

Brooke furrows her brow, and cant stop herself from reaching out to press the back of her hand against Vanessa’s forehead. She’s burning up. After a few moments, Brooke pulls away with a sigh. 

 

“Maybe I should take you to the hospital?”

 

Vanessa is quick to shake her head. “Fuck that, Mami, I ain't got health insurance,” she protests, her voice coming out low and scratchy. 

 

“But if you’re sick-“

 

“I’m fine,” Vanessa snaps, then her body betrays her with another fit of violent shivers. “Just take me home,” she sighs, leaning back into the seat and closing her eyes. 

 

-x-

 

Vanessa falls asleep almost as soon as Brooke starts to drive. And maybe Brooke takes the longest way possible to get to Vanessa’s apartment, because watching her sleep soundly in the passenger seat better than the alternative of dropping her off at her building, then spending the rest of the night worried sick about her. 

 

But eventually, Brooke has to face up to the reality that she can’t drive around with Vanessa in the car indefinitely, so she reluctantly heads for her home. 

 

“Ness,” Brooke says, keeping her voice low so that she doesn’t startle her. She doesn’t wake though, so Brooke tries again, a little louder this time, and reaches over to gently nudge her shoulder.

 

Brooke is still touching Vanessa’s shoulder when she awakes with a start and she pulls her hand back quickly, feeling caught. But Vanessa just smiles at her softly, like she’s happy to see her. “Hey you,” she says through a yawn.

 

“Hi,” Brooke says, unable to stop herself from grinning back. “We’re here.”

 

“Oh,” Vanessa says, still with that soft smile, glancing out of the window, “thank you.”

 

When Vanessa reaches for the door handle, Brooke realises that she’s not quite ready for the moment to end. “I’m going to walk you to the door,” she tells her, then gets out of the car before she can change her mind. 

 

She opens the passenger side door for Vanessa, then holds out her hand, palm facing upwards, as though she’s some kind of chauffeur to royalty. Vanessa accepts her hand with a giggle, followed by another series of violent coughs, and they walk arm in arm to the entrance to her building. 

 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Brooke asks, pressing her palm against Vanessa’s forehead once more and finding that she’s still red hot to the touch. “I really think I should take you to the hospital.”

 

Vanessa shakes her head and wraps her arms tightly around her petite body. “It ain’t nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix,” she shrugs. 

 

“Promise?” Brooke smirks, holding out her pinky finger as she does.

 

“Promise,” Vanessa confirms quietly, raising her hand to wrap her own pinky finger around Brooke’s. 

 

Once they’ve said their goodbyes, Brooke is almost at the end of the path when she hears the sound of Vanessa’s palms slam against the front door. Brooke turns and sees her leaning against the door for support, then rushes back to her, just in time to wrap her arms around her, steadying her before she falls and her legs give out beneath her. “You’re okay,” Brooke promises, “I’ve got you.”

 

“Jesus Christ,” Brooke mutters under her breath as she holds Vanessa up against herself. 

 

Fuck it, if Vanessa doesn’t have health insurance, Brooke will pay for the treatment her damn self, she just has do what she should’ve done half an hour ago and drive her to straight to urgent care. 

 

Brooke adjusts her grip on Vanessa, bending down to hook one arm beneath her knees and secures the other against her back, then scoops her up into her arms. It’s unsurprisingly easy, given her size. Getting her back into the passenger seat of the car is a little more difficult. 

 

During the drive to the hospital, Brooke makes the decision to switch on the blue lights, but decides against the sirens, so that she doesn’t distress Vanessa further. Vanessa drifts in and out of responsiveness, groaning vaguely at Brooke’s questions of how she’s feeling. Brooke places a firm, reassuring hand on Vanessa’s thigh, rubbing her thumb in slow circles, and leaves it there for the duration of the journey. 

 

-x-

 

Bringing Vanessa into the hospital passes in a haze of anxiety. Brooke feels like she’s on autopilot as she helps Vanessa from the car and into the front reception. Ordinarily, Brooke doesn’t use her police authority to garner any special favours or privileges, but if the receptionist happens to see Brooke’s badge and bumps Vanessa up to the front of the queue, then so be it. 

 

Vanessa is dehydrated, almost dangerously so, as the result of some type of infection. Brooke isn’t really listening as the doctor explains it to her, she just signs the forms consenting to pay for any treatment she might need, unable to pull her gaze away from Vanessa’s face. 

 

Laying in the hospital bed, sleeping softly, Vanessa seems so terrifyingly vulnerable. Brooke can’t bare the thought of how bad Vanessa could’ve let this get if she hadn’t have been there. 

 

Brooke sits in the uncomfortable plastic chair beside Vanessa’s bed all night, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest as she sleeps. Periodically, she reaches up to check her temperature, relaxing significantly when she realises it’s gradually falling. It seems that the intravenous rehydration fluids and antibiotics she’s been given are working well. 

 

In the morning, when Vanessa wakes up and groggily asks if Brooke has been there all night, she shrugs and tells her that any friend would’ve done the same. 

 

-x-

 

Vanessa is discharged a little past noon, with strict instructions to take her antibiotics three times a day, stay well rested, well hydrated, and remain indoors, at least for the time being. 

 

On the way back to her apartment, Brooke is too exhausted and Vanessa is too sick for conversation, but the silence is comfortable. Brooke stops at a local supermarket to stock up on tissues, painkillers, gatorades and tinned soup. 

 

She walks Vanessa from the car right up to her bedroom, still fearing in the back of her mind that she might pass out again. Even though she’s been asleep all night, Vanessa doesn’t protest when Brooke tucks her into bed. Brooke perches on the edge of the bed, pops two of the antibiotics from the foil packaging and places them into Vanessa’s hand, then watches as she takes them with a few small sips of water. “Drink a little more,” she encourages softly. 

 

As she’s getting up to leave, Vanessa reaches out and loosely grabs her wrist. “Stay,” she says, her fingers gently stroking over the pulse point, “please.”

 

Brooke is exhausted. She wants nothing more than to go home, take off the uniform that she’s been wearing all night, shower, and crawl into her bed. But somehow, when she sees the gentle, pleading in Vanessa’s eyes, all of that is forgotten. 

 

“Okay,” she breathes out shakily, nodding her head. She gets into bed next to Vanessa, attempting to keep a respectable distance between the two, but Vanessa cuddles up next to her regardless. Before Brooke realises what’s happening, Vanessa has one leg hooked over hers and is nuzzling into the crook of her neck. 

 

“Tell me a story,” Vanessa mumbles, her warm breath tickling Brooke’s skin. 

 

“I um-“ Brooke stammers, “I don’t know any stories.”

 

“Yes you do,” Vanessa insists. 

 

Brooke starts to tell her the story of Jack and the Beanstalk, since its the only fairytale she can vaguely remember, but hasn’t even reached the part with he magic beans before Vanessa is asleep. Her breathing still sounds laboured and painful, so Brooke strokes her hair softly for a long time, in an attempt to bring her some sense of comfort. 

 

As much as she wants to, Brooke knows that falling asleep in Vanessa’s bed probably isn’t the best idea, but she lays there anyways, afraid to move out of a fear of waking her. She just wants to hold her like this forever and never let go, never let her return to the dangerous, freezing streets, never let her get sick or scared or hurt ever again. She wants to protect her.

 

For a second, she’s tempted to just say fuck it and stay. But then she realises that she needs to stop doing this. She needs to stop allowing herself to get into situations where she’s curled up in bed with a woman she has feelings for, unable to do anything about it. 

 

This isn’t a relationship, and the sooner Brooke can get that through her head, the better. 

 

But when Vanessa mumbles incoherent nonsense in her sleep and snuggles closer into Brooke’s side, so close that she’s practically on top of her, Brooke decides that another fifteen minutes wont hurt. 

 

Eventually, the time comes when she has to carefully detangle herself from Vanessa’s arms and force herself to leave. She writes a note and leaves it on Vanessa’s bedside table, reminding her of the antibiotic schedule and making sure she knows to call if she needs anything at all. She underlines the word anything twice. 

 

In the final moment before she leaves, Brooke makes the impulsive decision to lean down and press a gentle kiss into her forehead, then another on her cheek. 

 

The following week, when Brooke gets sick and has to take three days off work, she decides that it is more than worth it, especially when Vanessa decides she is determined to return the favour and come round to look after her. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on another tumblr prompt, so feel free to keep them coming!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa takes care of sick Brooke, or, she tries to at least.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Van—“

 

Brooke cuts herself off with a loud sneeze. Her face screws up in frustration and she wipes her runny nose with a crumpled up tissue. Then, she groans softly and flops down onto her sofa, pulling her legs up and hugging her knees tightly to her chest.

 

“Yea, real convincing, mami,” Vanessa smirks back, trying not to seem too smug. “Besides, I gotta help you out since you took such good care of me.” 

 

Usually, Vanessa cant stand to be around sick people, what with all the whining and bitching and pity parties, but somehow when it comes to Brooke, she’s willing to forget about all of that. It’s not the fact that she feels guilty over the fact that asking Brooke to get into her bed last week is the reason that she’s sick. And it’s not even because she feels like she owes Brooke after she’d paid the hospital charges without a second thought. It’s because she genuinely can think of nothing she’d rather be doing right now.

 

The only problem is, Vanessa has no idea how she’s supposed to take care of her, so she’s very much hoping it comes naturally to her. 

 

Vanessa squats down in front of Brooke and presses the back of her palm against the her sweaty forehead. She’s burning up. Her cheeks are drained of all colour and her brow is furrowed in pain. “I think you got a fever,” Vanessa sighs. “You want some whiskey?”

 

Brooke grimaces and shakes her head. “Whiskey?” she repeats back in disgust.

 

Vanessa shrugs her shoulders awkwardly. “Whenever I got sick back in Tampa, I’d just drink a lotta whiskey to fall asleep and hope I’d be better by the time I woke up.”

 

Brooke chuckles and shakes her head affectionately, then starts to cough violently into the crook of her arm. When she’s finished, she leans back into the sofa, her breathing scratchy and laboured. Somehow she looks worse than she did before. Vanessa didn’t think that was possible. She perches on the edge of the coffee table across from Brooke and watches her, unsure of what to do next. 

 

“Did it work?” Brooke croaks out after a few minutes of silence, voice low and gravely.

 

“Did what work, baby?” 

 

“The whiskey.”

 

She laughs and shakes her head. “Not really, but it ain’t like my job comes with healthcare benefits.”

 

Then suddenly, Vanessa feels like she’s the one that’s sick again, because Brooke is staring at her with so much heartbreaking sympathy in her eyes. 

 

Not pity. With Brooke, it’s never pity. It’s the kind of look that says ‘I’m so, so fucking sorry’, even though there’s nothing for her to be sorry for. 

 

It’s too much. 

 

Vanessa’s chest is tight with emotions that she doesn’t know how to handle and Brooke is looking at her with those big, sad, beautiful blue eyes. She shakes her head, runs her hand through her hair, then leans forwards to rest her hand on Brooke’s knee.

 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, so just tell me what you need to make you feel better, okay?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper. Brooke starts to shake her head, presumably to say that she can take care of herself, but Vanessa squeezes her knee a little tighter. “Please, Brooke.” 

 

“I don’t know what to say, Ness,” she shrugs, with a sad smile, “just think of whatever you needed when you were sick last week and do that.” 

 

Brooke looks exhausted. Like even just keeping her head up and her eyes open is draining her energy. Like no matter how hard she tries, she can’t seem to find a position to relax in that doesn’t cause her whole body to ache and shiver. Vanessa knows all too well how it felt to feel that way. She knows exactly what she needs. 

 

Wordlessly, Vanessa stands up, sits down at the opposite end of the couch, then opens her arms in Brooke’s direction. “Come lay down,” she tells her.

 

Brooke’s cheeks flush red and she looks as though she may decline, but then she lets out a long, drawn out breath and shuffles closer, allowing Vanessa to pull her into her lap. After allowing Brooke a moment to adjust and find herself a comfortable position, Vanessa reaches down to tangle her fingers in Brooke’s hair. 

 

Brooke sighs in content and snuggles deeper into Vanessa’s lap, eventually giving in to exhaustion and falling asleep. Vanessa continues to stroke Brooke’s hair for a long time afterwards, then carefully leans across to grab the blanket draped over the back of the armchair and uses it to cover Brooke’s sleeping body. 

 

Over an hour passes, and Vanessa is on the cusp of falling asleep herself, when Brooke starts to cough. It’s light at first, then suddenly the coughing intensifies and she shoots up, clutching her chest. She doubles over, hacking loudly and Vanessa rushes to the kitchen to get her a glass of water. 

 

“It’s okay baby, take a drink. You’re okay,” Vanessa tells her. Brooke drinks a substantial amount of water before resting the glass on the coffee table and leaning forwards, resing her elbows on her knees. “Better” Vanessa asks, gently rubbing Brooke’s back. 

 

“I think so,” Brooke breathes out.

 

“Feeling better after your nap?” Vanessa teases, tickling her side. 

 

Brooke groans and covers her face with her hands. 

 

“You’re cute,” Vanessa laughs, then freezes as she catches herself. “It was cute. I mean, you taking a nap was cute. It doesn’t matter,” she stammers, standing up from the couch and taking a few steps away in the hopes that Brooke won't notice her blushing. “You um- you need any more water?”

 

Brooke quirks her eyebrow at the still half-full glass on the coffee table. “I’m good,” she smirks, then yawns loudly. Vanessa settles back down into the couch and opens her arms back out for Brooke, but she shakes her head. “There’s no way you’re comfortable sitting like that.”

 

“I’m fine,” Vanessa insists, trying not to sound too desperate. 

 

“Lay down beside me,” Brooke tells her softly, so she does. 

 

After a moment of fumbling to readjust their position, they’re both laid on the sofa, tangled in each other’s arms. Vanessa on her back, Brooke on her side with her head on Vanessa’s chest. 

 

It’s strange, Vanessa thinks as she traces patterns with her fingertips on Brooke’s shoulder, being the protective one for once. Being the caretaker. Instead of being a liability or a mess for Brooke to clean up, she’s the one doing the looking after. She’s the one comforting Brooke, strong arms wrapped around her, rather than the other way around. Even if she doesn’t know what medication to give her, or how to make soup, or any of the things you’re supposed to do when someone you care about is sick, she still feels needed. It’s nice. 

 

Brooke is asleep again within minutes.

 

In her sleep, she’s beautiful. Not that she isn’t beautiful all the time, but as she sleeps she looks so very serene. All of her worries and troubles, whatever they may be, are melted away. Even whilst she’s sick and has just about coughed up a lung, she sleeps with a very faint smile on her lips. 

 

Vanessa still remembers so vividly what it had been like to sleep next to her on the night when Brooke had let her stay over. Vanessa had woken up first, giving her a chance to lay next to Brooke and watch her as she slept. She’d rolled onto her back during the night and, unable to resist the urge to do so, Vanessa ran her fingertips from her forehead to the tip of her nose, giggling when Brooke crinkled her face up at the sensation. 

 

Before that night, Vanessa couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up in someone else’s bed.

 

To most people, she’s disposable. Something fun to play with for a few hours until they get bored and dump her back where they found her. She’s fine with it, it’s her job, but laying there with Brooke on that morning, feeling like for the first time in a long time she was wanted - it changed something inside of her. 

 

It had been like a sudden realisation of how desperately she wished her life could be different. How badly she wanted to be something other than who she is. Do something other than what she does. 

 

If she were different, then maybe Brooke would date her. They could be like normal people, who date who they want to date, instead of dancing around the fact that one is a cop and the other is a criminal. 

 

But she isn’t different. She’s a skeevy little hooker who will never be good enough for someone like Brooke. Vanessa can see the vague traces of anguish on her face when they hang out together. It’s like Brooke can never quite relax. She looks as though she’s always on the brink of saying something important, but can never bring herself to do it. 

 

Sometimes Vanessa worries that Brooke might be on the verge of pointing out how many boundaries they’re crossing and calling the whole thing off, so she thinks that maybe it’s better if whatever it is Brooke wants to say or do so desperately is left unsaid. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two to the last chapter, two days late and with an angsty ending because I’m sick and crabby. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> I’m still working my way through tumblr prompts if anyone has a request.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke has never been a jeaous person, not until Vanessa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For context, this happens two nights before they get together, but there was no way to convey that naturally in the story.

Brooke has never been jealous over a person. There’s never been anyone to get jealous over. 

There’d been one time when she was a kid that Nina had picked somebody else over her as a dance partner during class, but it hadn’t made her jealous. Insecure and anxious and riddled with self doubt over her dancing abilities, sure, but not jealous. 

To Brooke, jealousy over another person has always seemed like such an ugly emotion. It’s synonymous with a sense of possession. As a cop, she sees jealous, rage fuelled crimes occur on a regular basis. Resentment combined with the idea that you can own or control a person never fails to bring out some truly disgusting behaviour. 

She’s glad it not something she feels. 

-x-

Brooke’s never been under any illusions over what Vanessa does for a living. It was the reason they’d met, after all. But the closer they became, the more Brooke had tried to push the thought away and force herself to not think about it. 

Then she’d fallen head over heels in love. And the harder she fell, the harder it became to forget. 

Once Vanessa moved in, it had become impossible for her not to think about it. 

Impossible not to think about anonymous clients touching her, breathing in the soft fruity scent of her hair. Fucking her. 

The thought makes Brooke’s skin crawl. 

But it’s not jealousy, because Brooke doesn’t get jealous. 

The twist of pain that she feels deep in her chest when Vanessa leaves the apartment in her short skirts and her skyscraper heels. The way she wants to cry when Vanessa comes back with a subdued, almost vacant look on her face. 

It isn’t jealousy. 

-x-

When Vanessa moved in, their trips out during Brooke’s shifts became less frequent, replaced by hanging out in their free time instead. It works out better this way, since there are no time constraints. There’s no reason for Brooke to keep one eye on Vanessa and one eye on the clock, cautious of taking up too much time whilst on duty. 

Out of habit, however, she still drives past Vanessa’s street corner. 

So when she drives past one evening and sees Vanessa leaning in to the window of a parked car, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. 

It shouldn’t have made her feel like all the air has been sucked from her lungs. Shouldn’t have made her hands clench around the steering wheel and tears spring to her eyes. But it does. 

Vanessa is fluttering her eyelashes and twirling a strand of hair around her fingers in a disgustingly indicting manner. Brooke is sure the client is lapping it up. 

Brooke could flash her headlights to let the client know he’s been seen by the police, most likely resulting in him driving away. Or she could take it one step further and chase him down to let him know that if he ever tries to pick up Vanessa again he’ll be sorry. But what difference will it make?

For every client she could drive away, there will be ten more waiting to take their place. 

It’s how Vanessa makes a living, Brooke can’t change that, no matter how much she wants to. 

Plus, Brooke knows that if she went over there she’d have to arrest Vanessa, which she definitely doesn’t want to do.

So, Brooke finds herself sitting in the car, frozen on the spot and breathing heavily, because she can't seem to drive away either. When she sees Vanessa open the door and hop into the car, she wishes she would’ve

-x-

Brooke manges to hold herself together until the end of her shift. She drives a little too fast and blasts the radio a little too loud and begs herself to think of anything but Vanessa. 

She gives out three more cautions than on an average night and she doesn’t make small talk with any other officer when she’s back at the station, changing out of her uniform and dropping off the cop car to swap it for her own vehicle. 

It’s only when she gets into her own car, puts her hands on the wheel and is flooded with memories of Vanessa sitting in this same seat, learning how to drive - that’s when she loses it. 

There’s no build up. No quivering lip, no sniffles. Just sobbing. Loud, ugly, uncontrollable sobbing. 

Because she’s jealous. Jealous and frustrated and right on the brink of telling Vanessa that she can’t do this anymore. This game that they play. The not knowing. The words that are left unsaid. 

It’s too much. 

The thought of someone touching her Vanessa, its too much.

Jealousy is a disease. 

It’s ugly and dangerous. People die from it. They let it consume them, chipping away at their resolve until bitterness and resentment are the only things left. 

Brooke can see why.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa suffers from nightmares, but Brooke is always there to comfort her.

The sound of Brooke’s phone ringing startles her from her sleep. She scrambles for it in the darkness, almost knocking her bedside lamp onto the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, her alarm clock tells her it’s just after two in the morning. Calls at this hour never mean good news. 

 

When she sees Vanessa’s name on the screen, her body breaks out into a cold sweat and she rushes to answer the call.

 

“Vanessa? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Brooke stammers, readying herself to leap out of bed and get dressed. 

 

The line is silent and her panic only worsens. “Hello? Vanessa?” she asks frantically.

 

“Brooke! You’re up,” Vanessa finally says, startlingly loud and chipper. “Nothings wrong. What are doing?” she asks lightly, as though it isn’t two in the morning on a weekday.

 

Brooke sighs deeply - she has to work in the morning. But she’s a lovesick fool who would rather talk to Vanessa for just a few more minutes than admit she needs to go back to sleep. 

 

“I wasn’t doing anything, baby,” she lies. 

 

“Good. I thought I mighta woke you up or somethin’.” 

 

Brooke chuckles and shakes her head with a smile, unsure of whether Vanessa is being sarcastic or is just clueless. 

 

“Brooke?” Vanessa asks hesitantly, and Brooke realises she hasn’t spoken in a few moments.

 

“Yeah?” she asks, through a stifled yawn.

 

“You’re okay, right?”

 

She blinks a few times, “um, yeah I’m okay.”

 

“Like, nothing’s happened to you?”

 

“I— I’m fine. Why?” 

 

Brooke hears Vanessa exhale in a way that almost sounds like relief. “It’s nothing,” Vanessa tells her, “I just had a bad dream. You know the kind that stays with you for a while even after you wake up.”

 

Brooke sits up and rubs the sleep from her eyes. “A dream about what?”

 

Vanessa pauses for so long that Brooke thinks she might not answer, then finally, “you”, she breathes out. “I don’t wanna talk about it. I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sorry it’s stupid-“

 

“No,” Brooke quickly cuts her off. “No, it isn’t stupid. I um— I’m okay, okay? I’m here.”

 

“Good.”

 

There’s another long silence. 

 

Brooke picks at a loose thread on her duvet cover and tries to think of something other than the time they’d been curled up together, asleep in this bed. Or in Vanessa’s bed. Or on Brooke’s couch. “Do you want to come over?” she asks before she can change her mind.

 

“I probably shouldn’t.”

 

“Right.”

 

“You got work in the morning.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Brooke feels like a fool for asking. 

 

“I want to, but the buses don’t run this late,” Vanessa continues to explain herself. 

 

“It’s okay,” she pauses, then her curiosity gets the better of her, “do you need to talk about the dream?” 

 

Vanessa’s breath hitches and Brooke regrets asking. “I don’t really remember most of it. All I remember is looking for you, but you were gone.”

 

“Gone?”

 

“Like, your apartment was empty and your car was missing. Nobody at the station knew who you were. Then your number was gone from my phone and it was like you were never here and-“

 

Brooke makes soft shushing noises into the phone as she can hear Vanessa getting herself worked up. 

 

“It’s okay, ‘Ness. You know I’ll always be here,” she tells her softly. 

 

There’s more silence and Brooke listens to the soft, peaceful sound of Vanessa’s breathing. 

 

“I’m gonna let you get back to sleep now.”

 

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Brooke tries to lie, then blushes at Vanessa’s giggle in response. 

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Night, Brooke.”

 

“Night, Ness.”

 

She’s grinning at her phone like a schoolgirl and even after she’s put the phone down and she’s trying to get back to sleep, she can’t keep the smile off the face. 

 

It’s only when she stretches out and her limbs touch the cold left side of the bed that she wishes she would’ve just gotten out of bed and driven across town to comfort Vanessa in person. 

 

-x-

 

Brooke thought that Vanessa waking her up in the middle of the night with a phone call was worrying enough, so when she wakes to the sound of Vanessa screaming, it terrifies her. 

 

She’s lived with Vanessa for just over a month and has never heard a peep out of her in the night, she’s so perfect she doesn’t even snore, but this blood curdling scream is like something out of a horror movie. 

 

Bleary eyed and hazy, Brooke stumbles out of her bed and towards Vanessa’s bedroom. Convinced that she’s about to find an intruder in their home, she grabs the closest heavy object she can find, which happens to be a photo frame, ready to protect Vanessa with everything she’s got. 

 

It’s only when she pushes open Vanessa’s bedroom door and sees her thrashing around in bed, eyes squeezed tightly shut, that she realises what’s happening. She’s unsure of what to do next, but her instincts take over and she drops the photo frame,  then crosses the room to climb into bed and pull the smaller woman into her arms. 

 

Gradually, as Brooke whispers soothing words and strokes Vanessa’s hair, her violent panic fades away into choked whimpers. Brooke can feel Vanessa’s hot wet tears soaking her t-shirt. The t-shit that Vanessa clings to, as though she’s afraid that if she doesn’t, Brooke might leave. 

 

But Brooke won’t leave. She holds Vanessa, rocking gently back and forth, until she calms down. She doesn’t ask what Vanessa’s dream was about because it doesn’t matter, all that matters is that she knows that she’s safe. Vanessa will always be safe when Brooke is around. 

 

There’s a moment, when Vanessa has stopped crying, that they’re both breathing heavily and staring into one another’s eyes, and Vanessa glances down at Brooke’s lips, that Brooke thinks this is it. This is the moment that they’re going to kiss for the first time. But they don't, of course. 

 

Weeks later, when they finally do kiss and Brooke almost ruins it, Vanessa talks about how they would keep getting so close to something happening but then it wouldn’t. Brooke thinks back to this night and wonders if that’s what she means.

 

-x-

 

Vanessa’s nightmares are rare, which somehow makes them even more frightening for Brooke when they do happen. But eventually they’ve been sleeping in the same bed for long enough that Brooke doesn’t panic when she wakes up to the sound of thrashing or screaming. In fact, most of the time she tends to wake up before it gets that far. 

 

Brooke can usually tell when Vanessa is going to have a bad night. She’ll fidget in bed trying to find a comfortable position, or grind her teeth in her sleep. Most of the time she has enough warning to soothe Vanessa before the nightmare gets too intense, but sometimes if Vanessa has had a particularly stressful day or a there's a lot on her mind, the nightmares will come out of nowhere. 

 

A few weeks before their wedding, when all they can think about is making sure every last detail is going to fall into place, an especially bad nightmare hits. It takes close to half an hour before Brooke can calm her down. 

 

“What do you dream about?” Brooke whispers, stroking Vanessa’s cheek. She never usually asks, since Vanessa doesn’t seem to want to talk about it, but tonight’s was so bad that she can’t help herself. 

 

Vanessa shrugs and stares into the mug of lukewarm herbal tea she’s been nursing. 

 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Brooke tells her. 

 

“It’s not that I don’t wanna tell you, I just can't explain it.”

 

“Why don't you try? If you think it will help.”

 

Vanessa exhales deeply and sets the mug down on the bedside table, then moves to nuzzle into Brookes side and pulls the covers right up to her chin. “Nothing really happens in the dreams, it ain't like a story or whatever, it’s just… feelings?” Vanessa fumbles over her words and Brooke strokes her hair encouragingly. 

 

“What kind of feelings?”

 

“Mostly fear I guess? Like I’m afraid that something really bad has happened and I don’t know what to do about it.”

 

Brooke thinks back to the time when Vanessa had called her in the middle of the night to make sure she was alright, but doesn’t want to press any further and upset her. She’s ready to suggest they try and go back to sleep when Vanessa speaks again. 

 

“My nightmares used to be about something bad happening to me.”

 

“Used to?”

 

“Yeah,” she pauses for a long time before speaking again. “Do you know how I realised that I was in love?”

 

Brooke shakes her head and pulls Vanessa in closer. 

 

“In my nightmares, I stopped worrying about myself and started worrying about you.”

 

-x- 

 

Olivia is four years old when she has her first nightmare. 

 

She wakes up crying in the night and Brooke and Vanessa struggle to explain to her why sometimes we see scary things in our dreams. Vanessa checks under the bed for monsters whilst Brooke leaves to make Olivia some warm milk. 

 

When she comes back with the milk, she sees Vanessa and Olivia curled up in bed, both of them sleeping soundly, and the sight melts her heart. They’re her whole world. 

 

There’s no way that Brooke go back to her own bed, so she sighs with a smile, sets the mug down, and crosses the room to join them. Slotting herself in to the already cramped single bed is a struggle, but it's worth it when she can see Vanessa and Olivia’s sleeping faces up close and place a delicate kiss on each of their foreheads. 

 

Olivia is in the middle, tucked into Vanessa’s side, so Brooke can wrap one arm around both of them and hold them close. 

 

As much as it hurts her, she’ll never be able to stop her wife and daughter from having nightmares, but she will always be there to comfort them when they wake up. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my angsty streak has ended??
> 
> Also, theres no order in which I’m filling the tumblr prompts, so if you’ve submitted something a while ago that hasn’t been written yet, it’s probably just still on the list!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Five of FYS, from Vanessa’s perspective.

Vanessa frowns as she looks at herself in the full length mirror in her bedroom. She looks at herself head on, then turns to the side, then back to the front. She pokes at her bare abdomen with one finger, then frowns again. 

 

She’s definitely gained weight whilst she’s been living with Brooke. 

 

She supposes that’s what happens when you start eating home cooked meals instead of living off instant ramen. 

 

Living with Brooke makes Vanessa feel like a real grown up. It’s nothing at all like the pathetic attempt at adulthood that her and Yvie had been living for the past nine years. Instead of the coffee table being piled high with junk mail and takeout menus, there’s a fresh vase of flowers every week. Instead of dried up makeup wipes and toothpaste on the sink, Brooke has fancy smelling hand soap. 

 

There doesn’t seem to be anything special about the way Brooke lives, to most, it probably seems like a regular apartment, but for the first few weeks, Vanessa feels like she’s living in a hotel. In a way that reflects Brooke perfectly, everything is pristine. Nothing is out of place. The apartment is warm and comfortable and even when Vanessa feels like she’s walking on eggshells, too afraid to touch anything or make a mess, she still somehow feels like she’s at home. 

 

Vanessa attributes a large part of the reason she feels this way to the fact that Brooke welcomes her wholeheartedly and makes sure Vanessa knows every day that she has to treat the apartment as her own, since it is now. At first, Vanessa thinks that Brooke’s constant checks on her are just done out of politeness, but when the first month passes and she realises that Brooke’s doting has not relented in the slightest, Vanessa understands more than ever that Brooke might be one of the kindest people she has ever met. 

 

So kind, in fact, that she spoils Vanessa with junk food way too regularly. 

 

Vanessa frowns and prods at her stomach again. 

 

When she hears a soft knock at her door, Vanessa pulls the bunched up material of her t-shirt back down and spruces up her hair a little in the mirror. “It’s open,” she tells Brooke. 

 

Brooke pushes open the door hesitantly and rubs her hand over her back of her neck. “So um,” she stammers. God, she’s truly adorable. “The update on my car insurance policy went through today, so I’m all clear to teach you how to drive, if you still want to?” Brooke is fidgeting and rocking gently on the balls of her feet, as though she’s genuinely afraid that Vanessa might say no. 

 

Last week, when Vanessa had idly mentioned that she wished she would have learnt how to drive as a teenager, Brooke had practically stumbled over her words offering to teach her. In that moment, Vanessa wondered how it was possible that she had gotten so lucky when she’d met Brooke. 

 

“I’ll go, but under one condition,” Vanessa teases as she grabs her jacket and purse. 

 

“Oh?”

 

Vanessa crosses the room and stands in front of Brooke, who is still standing in the doorway. “Ya gotta take of that damn beanie,” Vanessa smirks. 

 

Brooke grins from ear to ear and a blush passes over her cheeks as she bashfully lifts the beanie hat from on top of her head, allowing her platinum blonde hair to come tumbling out. 

 

Vanessa sighs softly with a smile. Beautiful. 

 

-x- 

 

Her hands are shaking as she positions them at ten and two on the steering wheel. She straightens her back and inhales deeply, trying to calm her nerves. Brooke had adjusted the seat for her, due to their height difference, but still Vanessa can’t seem to get comfortable. 

 

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Brooke asks softly.

 

“I do.”

 

“You seem nervous.”

 

“I ain’t nervous. Or at least, I wasn’t. You saying the word nervous has made me nervous,” Vanessa stammers rapidly, until Brooke cuts her off.

 

“Ness,” is all she needs to say. 

She inhales deeply once more and wipes her sweaty palms on her jeans, then places them back on the wheel.

 

“I’m here, okay? I’m not going to let anything bad happen.”

 

Vanessa believes her. 

 

Really, it isn't the driving that she’s concerned about. The thing that has Vanessa so on edge is the fact that she can see Brooke out of the corner of her eye, staring at her so intently. She’s less worried about fucking up and more worried about what Brooke will think of her if she does. 

 

Brooke always looks at Vanessa like she can do nothing wrong, but what if this time she lets her down. She inhales deeply one final time and turns the key in the ignition. 

 

To say its her first time behind the wheel of a car, she doesn’t think she’s doing too badly, but Brooke seems to have a different option. Vanessa can practically feel the anxious energy radiating off of her as she clutches at the passenger seat. It’s hard to stay focused on anything but Brooke, so maybe her foot is a little heavy on the gas. 

 

“Easy does it,” Brooke tells her calmly, “feel free to slow down.”

 

-x- 

 

Life with Brooke is so much better than Vanessa ever could’ve anticipated, but the one thing that constantly gnaws on Vanessa’s mind is the fact that she can't understand the nature of their relationship. 

 

When it comes to sex, Vanesaa doesn’t deal in grey areas. Either you want to have sex with someone, or you dont. And if you want to have sex with someone who also wants to have sex with you, then theres no reason not to do it. It had been simple at first, when Brooke had been a smoking hot, friendly neighbourhood cop and Vanessa had been desperate to get laid by someone who wasn’t paying her, but all that changed when Vanessa fell in love. 

 

The nature of their relationship has changed and become one of those rare, genuine, unbreakable connections that not many people will ever experience. And this thing that’s between them, Vanessa knows Brooke feels it too. She can see it in her eyes when they hold one another’s gaze for just a fraction of a second too long and Vanessa thinks that finally this will be the moment one of them caves. But they don't.

 

Vanessa sighs deeply and tries to push the thought of Brooke out of her mind as she gets dressed for work. As soon as she leaves their apartment, Vanessa has to switch off the thinking and feeling part of her brain in order to survive. It’s as though her mind is vacant whilst her body does all the work. It’s easier that way.

 

As she’s freezing her ass off in the cold, trying to work out how many clients she’ll need to see to afford rent this month, she can't think about how she wishes Brooke was here to keep her warm. When she’s climbing into the passenger seat of a car that smells like sweat and harsh aftershave, she cant think about how she wishes she were smelling Brooke’s cherry air freshener instead. When a rough calloused hand grazes the inside of her thigh, she can’t think about how disgusted Brooke would be if she could see her right now. 

 

She cant think about it, so she doesn’t. 

 

Her mind checks out and her body is on autopilot. 

 

-x-

 

Vanessa gets home later than usual. Walking back into the apartment after a night out working never fails to make Vanessa feel like shit, so she tends to drown her sorrows in a cheap dingy bar two blocks away until she thinks she’s left it late enough that Brooke will be in bed. 

 

She doesn’t even think that Brooke does it on purpose. The look. The look that she gives Vanessa every time she gets home from a night of working. The look that is sympathetic and frustrated and heartbroken and angry all at the same time. 

 

Vanessa hates that fucking look. 

 

When she’d lived with Yvie, she’d come home from work to be greeted with a cold beer and a slap on the ass. Now, when she walks through the door she can see Brooke’s eyes scanning over her body for any sign of harm. As though she cant take care of herself. 

 

Some days, she wishes Brooke would just come out and say it. 

 

_ I regret asking a hooker to come and live in my apartment and I want you to leave.  _

 

But she never would. Instead she just bottles up whatever the fuck is going on inside that head of hers, leaving Vanessa to second guess herself. She’s never wanted to stop working more. But if she did, she’d have nothing else. 

 

In some ways, living with Brooke is like torture. She cant take it for much longer. 

 

Vanessa tries to be quiet as she’s walking up the stairs, but she’s had one too many whiskeys and she stumbles at least once. She drops her keys in the doorway and curses loudly as she leans down to retrieve them. As she steps into the living room, ready to kick off her shoes and tiptoe to bed, she sees Brooke sitting on the sofa. She’s doing the look. 

 

“You smell like cheap whiskey,” Brooke murmurs. 

 

Vanessa laughs. Because of course Brooke would chose tonight of all nights to pick a fight with her. She slurs out a joke about not drinking fancy whiskey as she fumbles with the straps on her shoes, then Brooke tells her not to leave them in the middle of the room. 

 

She laughs again. This really isn't the night. She kicks the shoes a little closer to the wall, ready to head straight to bed. This has been happening more and more frequently. When she gets home from work, Brooke will mutter a few dry, condescending comments and usually Vanessa will pretend she thinks Brooke’s joking, only to cry later in the confines of her own room. In the morning, Brooke will be back to her regular self, making them both coffee and asking Vanessa if she slept well. 

 

Vanessa wishes they could skip to the morning now, because she’s right on the verge of snapping. 

 

Vanessa tries to keep up the joke, she laughs and asks Brooke if she’s not allowed to drink anymore, since Brooke seems to be so offended by her drunkenness.

 

“That’s not the problem,” Brooke sighs. 

 

Fuck it. 

 

“Then what is the problem, bitch?” She pauses briefly, but doesn’t let Brooke interject. “You think I don’t notice that every time I get back from workin’, you wanna treat me like a piece of trash?” 

 

The words come tumbling out of her mouth without thought. Vanessa tells Brooke that she knows she’s disgusted by her work, but that she’s brought this on herself by asking her to move in in the first place. She knows she’s yelling. The horrified, almost afraid, look on Brooke’s face tells her that she’s yelling, but she’s too far over the line to cool down now. The words keep coming and coming until her throat is hoarse and Brooke looks like she’s about to burst into tears.

 

“I don’t have a problem with what you do, Ness,” Brooke tries to defend herself. It’s so soft and gentle that it makes Vanessa feel like an asshole for yelling so harshly at the only person in her life that’s cared about her so unrelentingly. Vanessa doesn’t even believe what she’s saying, but she’s upset and she’s drunk and part of her thinks that if she’s hurting then Brooke should have to hurt too. 

 

So that’s what she does. Like a child, she says cruel words that she doesn’t mean in order to hurt the woman that she loves.

 

“Just take a fucking shower. I can’t stand the smell of cheap whiskey,” Brooke says, voice trembling, as she leaves the room. Vanessa winces at the sound of Brooke’s bedroom door slamming behind her. 

 

-x-

 

Two cups of coffee later, Vanessa is sober, sitting alone in her bedroom and trying not to cry. 

 

The things that she’d said to Brooke make her feel nauseous. 

 

Brooke has never once, in the eight months that they’ve known one another, made Vanessa feel like she’s anything less than perfect. She’s warm and loving and supportive every single day. When Vanessa had accidentally left the window open on a rainy day and the rain had soaked the carpet, Brooke said it was her fault for not reminding Vanessa to close it in the first place. 

 

To suggest that Brooke is harbouring some kind of deeply held resentment for Vanessa over the work that she does is simply not true and Vanessa knows it, she just let her own self doubt get the better of her. 

 

The one thing that Vanessa can't ignore, however, is the fact that something is wrong with Brooke. Whatever is going on in her head to make her seem so bitter and upset every time Vanessa gets home from work, must be something significant if it’s making her act in a way that so unlike herself. But for now, all Vanessa can do is hope that Brooke has snapped out of it in the morning. 

 

She sheds her clothes, grabs the robe off the back of her door and heads for the bathroom. 

 

As she approaches the door she can hear the water running on the other side. 

 

Her mind tells her to turn around, but her legs propel her forwards. 

 

It’s time to put an end to this once and for all. She knows what’s wrong with Brooke, because it's the same thing that’s wrong with herself. Of course, she doesn’t know for sure, but in her heart,  _ she knows.  _

 

With her hand on the door handle, Vanessa makes a decision. It’s crazy and reckless but she must be a little drunk still because she can't see a reason not to do it. 

 

She opens the bathroom door. 

 

-x- 

 

Brooke doesn’t notice her at first. She’s scrubbing intently at the skin of her arm and facing away. Looking at her silhouette though the frosted glass, Vanessa briefly worries that she’s made a terrible decision. But she doesn’t have time to dwell on it. Brooke looks up. 

 

There’s a moment, as Vanessa’s robe slides away from her body and drops to the floor, that she realises she’s changed her life. This moment, right now, has changed her life. It sounds dramatic but it’s true, because this will go one of two ways. Either Brooke will stop Vanessa in her tracks, and their friendship will never be the same. Or she won’t. And then God only knows where they go from there. 

 

“What are you doing?” Brooke whispers as the glass door slides open, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. 

 

“You told me I gotta take a shower,” Vanessa whispers back. She shuts the door behind her. 

 

Vanessa moves across from Brooke so that their bodies are inches apart and tilts her head back to look Brooke in the eye. She looks like the thoughts are whirring around her mind so quickly that she can’t keep track of them, but she hasn’t pushed her away, so Vanessa takes that as a sign that this is finally happening. No more longing gazes that never come to fruition. No more caught breaths in anticipation of a kiss that isn’t coming. 

 

This is happening. 

 

The realisation allows Vanessa a striking sense of calm, despite the fact that she knows she should be losing her mind. 

 

Brooke blinks slowly at her and Vanessa almost smiles because of course Brooke could have a woman climb naked into the shower with her and still think that she shouldn’t make a move. Without breaking eye contact, she reaches out for Brooke’s hand and slowly raises it to her own cheek. As she does, she sees Brooke’s eyes drift down her body and Vanessa swears Brooke licks her lips. Then Brooke moves closer. 

 

When Brooke’s fingers come into contact with her cheek, she pulls her own hand away, letting Brooke decide where she wants to go from here. Vanessa’s eyes flutter shut and she draws in a sharp breath as she waits.

 

And waits. 

 

Brooke hasn’t kissed her yet. Something is wrong. 

 

She’s about to open her eyes and just kiss Brooke her damn self when she feels Brooke’s forefinger beneath her chin, tilting her head upwards. 

 

“Look at me,” Brooke tells her. So she does. She looks up into Brooke’s beautiful blue eyes and when she sees Brooke trembling, all she wants to do is tell her that everything is okay. But she can’t, because Brooke speaks first. 

 

“I’m in love with you.” 

 

Vanessa’s hands are on either side of Brooke’s face, pulling her down into a searing kiss before she consciously registers that she’s doing it. She can feel Brooke’s hand in her hair and an arm around her waist, bringing her impossibly closer, but the only thought she can hear is ‘I’m in love with you’. The words bounce around her mind with every move she makes, and she swears that for a moment she wishes that she could go deaf just so that she will never hear any other words again. 

 

Vanessa knows the kiss sloppy and uncoordinated, but it has to be like this. This kiss has been all she’s thought about for so long that she can't pull herself together for long enough to slow down. She doesn’t realise that Brooke has moved her until her back hits the icy tiles behind them. Then Brooke is lifting her off the ground and she’s curling her legs around Brooke’s waist and she swears this is the hottest thing she’s ever done. 

 

Vanessa has sex often. It’s uncomfortable and awkward and she spends the entire time waiting for it to be over so that she can get paid and leave. 

 

This is not sex - this is love. This is an intense, passionate, all consuming love that Vanessa has been craving for so, so long. She feels more connected to her own body than she has done in years. Every last nerve ending, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, is ablaze. It’s indescribable. She never wants it to end. 

 

Maybe it’s her heightened sensitivity, or maybe it’s because Brooke is getting carried away, but when Brooke starts to suck and nip at her neck, it stings. She hisses sharply in pain but Brooke doesn’t hear her, so she kisses her briefly on the temple before wriggling slightly. “Brooke,” she whispers gently, “stop. You’re hurting me.”

 

Brooke sharply pulls her face out of the crook of Vanessa’s neck, and Vanessa raises her lips for another kiss but instead Brooke sets her back down. 

 

Vanessa can see Brooke’s resolve crumbling slowly, and then all at once. There’s nothing she can do to stop it. 

 

The shower is still running. They’re both soaking wet and Vanessa is starting to feel the chill, but Brooke is stammering and her eyes are brimming with tears and it takes Vanessa a moment to work out that the reason Brooke is so upset because she’s given her a hickey. Vanessa tries to keep it light and tease Brooke for getting upset over something so inconsequential, because she can’t handle the emotions that she’s experiencing. 

 

She’s used to clients being rough with her. Treating her like a doll that they can mould and shape however they like. And here Brooke is, practically on the verge of tears over a hickey. God, Vanessa loves her so much it aches. 

 

Brooke leaving the bathroom in a panic is inevitable. Honestly, Vanessa is surprised that it doesn’t happen sooner. But it’s okay. 

 

If Brooke is going to panic herself right to the brink of calling this whole thing off, then Vanessa is ready to follow her and pull her back from the edge. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter has taken a while to be uploaded, I hope its worth the wait!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa is a jealous person and she always has been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: safeword use

Vanessa is five years old when she first learns what jealousy is. She’s watching her best friend play with somebody different on the playground and can’t articulate what’s wrong in a way other than throwing a tantrum and causing a scene.

 

When she’s twelve, she leans that jealousy doesn’t just have to apply to friendships, it can happen with other types of relationships too. Or, non-relationships, as the case may be. She sees a girl, that she’s just beginning to figure out she might like as more than a friend, making out with a boy from their class after school. The complex blend of rage and humiliation and disappointment that pools in her stomach is a feeling she will come to know all too well.

 

Vanessa knows she isn’t supposed to feel jealousy. It’s an ugly emotion that lowers self esteem and ruins relationships and weakens trust between two people. She can’t help it. She wouldn’t choose to feel it. But she feels it anyways.

 

-x-

 

As soon as Vanessa starts to get close to Brooke, she waits for the jealousy to come. And boy, does it ever.

 

She sees Brooke being kind to the other girls on the streets. Checking everyone is alright and letting them off with cautions for things that definitely ought to have them arrested. But instead of feeling proud that she gets to be friends with such a compassionate, understanding, selfless woman, the jealousy comes.

 

It creeps in like black mould. Toxic and unrelenting.

 

_Brooke is my friend, what is she doing helping out the other girls? Does she like them more than she likes me? Are we all just the same to her?_

 

It isn’t fair on Brooke and she knows it. So, for the first time in her life she actually tries to challenge the feeling head on instead of letting it consume her. She works on her self-confidence and reassures herself that the friendship she has with Brooke is unique, because Brooke is unique. She’s careful with her feelings and yet she’s chosen to let Vanessa in - it's a privilege.

 

And it works. The jealousy creeps away just as it had crept in. For a little while.

 

-x-

 

When they finally get together after months of pining and pent up sexual frustration, the jealousy starts to return.

 

It’s a disease.

 

When she was a teenager, she’d fall in love with a different person every summer and swear that they were the one. Then she’d let her jealousy creep in and ruin it. Her inability to share. Or trust. Or accept that when someone tells you they love you, they mean it. To her immature mind, she believed that the greater you love a person, the more jealous you should feel.

 

It was only much later that she realised the feelings are in fact incompatible. Because utter love and trust should not leave room for jealousy.

 

So, when she recognises the signs of jealousy rearing its ugly head in her relationship with Brooke - a woman with whom she genuinely believes is the woman she wants to spend the rest of her life with - she knows that it’s something they have to talk about.

 

“I get really jealous and I can’t control it, and I wish I could, because I trust you more than anything, but I-“

 

She starts to ramble one night out of nowhere, and she can’t seem to stop.

 

“Ness, slow down,” Brooke tells her softly. She pauses the movie they’re watching, shifts the cat off the sofa in the gap between them and scoots closer. “Why don’t you try again, but with more full stops this time?”

 

Vanessa nods her head, but can’t quite look Brooke in the eye. She takes a deep breath followed by another and Brooke watches her the entire time, resting a reassuring hand on her thigh.

 

“You know how much I love you, right?”

 

Brooke smiles. “Of course I do. Is that what you’re worried about?”

 

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” she starts to stammer, then composes herself. “I just wanted to tell you that sometimes I get jealous. Like when Nina was here a couple of weeks ago and ya’ll were laughing about old jokes I was worried that she knows you better than I do. Or I worry that when you’re at work some other girl is going to be prettier or smarter or better than me and you’re going to-“

 

She can't finish the sentence.

 

“But it doesn’t mean that I don’t trust you, because I do. It’s just a shity feeling that I get sometimes.”

 

Brooke doesn’t stop smiling, her eyes full of understanding and warmth. She brushes the stray hairs from Vanessa’s face and cups her cheeks with both hands, then kisses her forehead slowly. “Trust me when I tell you that I know what it feels like to have shitty feeling that you can't control,” she says. “If this is something we need to work through, then we’ll do it together. Okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

And they do. Vanessa promises to tell Brooke as soon as she feels a jealous thought start to bud, so that it doesn’t spiral out of control, and Brooke promises to try and not take it personally, no matter how petty Vanessa’s concerns may be.

 

It does wonders for their relationship. Vanessa learns how to manage her intrusive, jealous thoughts and eventually stops feeling them all together. Their communication and understanding of each other gets stronger every day. But that doesn’t mean that Vanessa never slips up.

 

-x-

 

Vanessa is stressed from working long hours at the bar whilst simultaneously balancing college classes in management so that she can be qualified for a promotion. She’s worked off her feet and cranky and exhausted, but worst of all, she misses her wife.

 

Brooke’s shift pattern has been disrupted due to a staff reshuffle at the station and its meant that they’ve barely spent any time together in weeks. When one is getting home from work, ready to collapse into bed and sleep, the other will be getting ready to leave and start a twelve hour day. And vice versa. The time that they do have together is spent with hurried kisses and promises that they are going to have real time together soon, but it isn’t enough.

 

One afternoon, when a dancer that she’s supposed to be rehearsing a number with calls in sick and therefore clears up Vanessa’s schedule for the day, she decides to stop by the station and surprise Brooke by taking her out for lunch. When she arrives, the receptionist, who knows Vanessa by name, greets her with a smile and tells her to head up to Brooke’s desk on the first floor.

 

But Brooke isn't at her desk alone. Sitting beside her is a petite, doe eyed young woman, watching intently at whatever Brooke is demonstrating on her computer. Maybe it's the fact that she’s tired, or stressed, or that she hasn’t been seeing Brooke enough recently, but the pang of jealousy hits her like a slap in the face. Seeing Brooke sitting there with a young, very attractive woman in a freshly ironed uniform, laughing loudly, brings out an ugly train of thought that she assumed she had long since left behind.

 

She smiles politely and shakes the girls hand when Brooke introduces her as Plastique, the newly graduated cadet and her mentee. Then places a protective hand on Brooke’s waist as she introduces her to Plastique as her wife. When Brooke tells her that she’s already eaten, but if she can give her twenty minutes to finish teaching Plastique how to use the incident logging system, that they can go for a coffee, Vanessa tells her that it doesn’t matter and that she will see her at home.

 

-x-

 

She tries not to think about it, she really does. But the thoughts just won’t leave. What if Brooke is going to replace her with a younger model? She’d have plenty of opportunity, if she wanted to. She stews and stews until she’s convinced herself that without a reminder that she can be young and hot too, Brooke will leave her.

 

In anticipation of Brooke coming home, she rifles through the back of the closet in the spare bedroom, that contains all of her old clothes, searching for the perfect outfit. Black mini skirt with two silver zips up the sides. Black bralette and a mesh jersey to cover it. Black fingerless gloves. Thigh-high, lace up boots.  

 

She applies her makeup in the way that she does for work. Thick and fierce. Styles her hair, too. Then adds a pair of large hoop earrings and waits.

 

-x-

 

Brooke gets home a little after seven. It’s winter now, so it's already dark outside. She’s sifting through the post in her hand, not looking up, when she enters the living room.

 

“Why hello there, officer,” Vanessa purrs seductively, causing her to look up.

 

“What are y- oh,” Brooke breathes out, a smirk crossing her face.

 

Vanessa stands and crosses the room towards Brooke, undulating her hips as she does. Even in her heels, she’s shorter than Brooke and she has to lean upwards when she drapes her arms around Brooke and starts to kiss her neck.

 

“I’ve been - a very - bad - girl,” Vanessa drawls, punctuated by open mouthed kisses along Brooke neck, one hand on her waist and the other tangled in her hair. Brooke’s own hands come to rest delicately on Vanessa’s hips, her thumbs brushing the smooth leather of her skirt. She kisses Brooke on the lips momentarily, before pulling away.

 

She moves one hand to skirt her fingers across the waistband of Brooke’s trousers. “Ain’t you gonna arrest me?” Vanessa asks, voice small and breathy and close to Brooke’s ear, tugging at the handcuffs on her belt.

 

Brooke’s breath catches in her throat and she tightens her hold on Vanessa’s hips. “Are you sure, Ness? You really want to do this?” she whispers.

 

They’ve roleplayed before. They’ve been anonymous strangers in a bar. Played doctor. A dance teacher and her student. The list goes on. But they’ve never done cop and criminal before, it has always felt a little too close to home. Now, however, Vanessa wants to give Brooke something extra special to think about whilst she’s sitting at her desk or out on patrol.

 

Vanessa looks up at Brooke through her long, fluttering eyelashes and tugs her lower lip between her teeth, then nods slowly. “Green,” she tells her. Brooke’s lips curl up into a smirk.

 

She squeaks in surprise Brooke grabs both her wrists and pushes them away from her body, then starts backing them up towards the couch. Brooke straightens her shoulders, highlighting the difference between their two heights, then stoops down leans in close to Vanessa’s ear. “You’ve been a very bad girl,” she sneers.

 

“I have,” Vanessa whimpers as Brooke nudges her and the backs of her legs hit the couch.

 

“And what do bad girls get?”

 

“Punished.”

 

Brooke nods slowly as reaches for the handcuffs on her belt. Vanessa shudders, and she isn’t sure if it’s because she’s aroused or because she’s realising how fucked up this is. It isn’t that she doesn’t like the kinkiness - they’ve done similar things to this before. But with Brooke in her uniform and Vanessa in the clothes she’d long since thought she would never wear again, it feels wrong, somehow.

 

Obediently, Vanessa bares her wrists for Brooke to cuff, but right before she does, she raises a questioning eyebrow, silently asking Vanessa if she’s okay to carry on.

 

Vanessa nods.

 

“Out loud, baby,” Brooke whispers, character forgotten momentarily.

 

Vanessa hesitates. “Green,” she nods, then lets Brooke cuff her wrists. Brooke nods briefly, then she’s back into character, pushing Vanessa back onto the couch roughly.

 

She starts to settle into things once more when Brooke drops to her knees between her legs to trail kisses from her knees up her thighs, sucking and nipping at the skin exposed between the laces of her boots.

 

“Oh, officer,” she purrs, trying to keep the roleplay going, but the words taste bitter in her mouth. She moans softly as Brooke’s kisses climb higher and higher, then surprisingly Brooke sighs and pulls back to rest her forehead on Vanessa’s knee.

 

“Red,” she whispers.

 

“What?” Vanessa asks, sitting up slightly.

 

“Red, Ness,” Brooke tells her again. “I’m sorry I don’t think I can do this.” She gestures between them. “The cop thing, it’s just too weird for me. I’m sorry.”

 

The change is immediate. Vanessa snaps out of roleplay mode and sits up a little straighter, whilst struggling to pull the hem of her skirt back down with still-cuffed wrists.

 

“Sorry,” Brooke breathes out, shaking her head and looking away.

 

“No, no, don’t be sorry. I didn’t like it either. I’m such an asshole,” Vanessa reassures her. She stands up and tries to reach for Brooke but her restraints prevent her from doing so, causing them both to laugh. It’s stupid and small, but it breaks the tension and Vanessa is greateful.

 

They giggle as Brooke fumbles with the keys on her belt, then as the cuffs clatter to the floor, Brooke brings Vanessa’s wrists to her lips and kisses each one in turn. Brooke then cups Vanessa’s face and kisses her softly on the tip of her nose. “Are you okay?” Brooke asks quietly.

 

Vanessa nods, leaning into her touch. “Are you?”

 

She nods back. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry. I’m the one that should be sorry, baby.”

 

Brooke smiles, then drops her hands to tickle Vanessa’s sides. “You look smoking hot, by the way,” she tells her playfully. Vanessa laughs as she tries to push away Brooke’s tickling hands, and they stumble backwards onto the couch together. As Brooke’s touches become caresses, Vanessa lets out a needy, pleading sound from the back of her throat and the tickling turns into hard, needy kisses.

 

Brooke nestles herself between Vanessa’s legs, with one hand in her hair and the other hand trailing up her thigh. And Vanessa wants to be giving Brooke her full attention, but she can’t. Because her mind is plagued with guilt over allowing her jealousy to take ahold of her and push them into a roleplay that neither were comfortable with.

 

“Brooke, stop,” Vanessa tells her, leaning away from her kisses.

 

Brooke pulls back and looks at her with panicked eyes scanning her face for signs of what’s wrong. “Are you okay?”

 

“I need to tell you something.”

 

Brooke nods and moves so that she’s no longer on top of Vanessa and they can sit side by side on the couch.

 

“The reason that I did all this,” she starts, gesturing to the outfit that she’s wearing, “is because I got jealous when I saw you with that girl at work today.”

 

Brooke sighs and leans forwards, resting her elbows on her knees, but she doesn't say anything.

 

“I’m really sorry, baby,” Vanessa breathes out, blinking away the tears that form on the brims of her eyes. “I haven’t felt like that in a really long time, I don't know what happened-“

 

“Ness,” she cuts her off then sighs again and shakes her head. She turns so that they are face to face and takes both of Vanessa’s hands in hers.

 

“I think about you all day, every day. I think about if you made it to work on time or if your shoes are bothering you or if you’re drinking enough water. There’s a photo of you on my desk and on my keychain and in my wallet. But if I have to convince you every day that you’re the only woman I will ever love, then I will.”

 

Vanessa shakes her head. “You shouldn’t have to do that.”

 

“I know, but I will.”

 

Vanessa wants to cry. It isn’t right that Brooke feels like she has something to prove when Vanessa is the one getting worked up over nothing. But that’s just how Brooke is. She’s selfless and caring and knows exactly what to say, every time.

 

“I think we should both take a day off work next week,” Brooke tells her.

 

“Why?”

 

“I just think we need to spend some time together. I miss you.”

 

“I miss you too, baby,” Vanessa says, tucking herself into Brooke’s open arms and letting her pull them both back into the couch pillows.

 

“Maybe you could wear the boots again next week, too?”

 

-x-

 

When they’d gotten married, one of Brooke’s aunts had given them a corny framed print about how marriage takes hard work. Vanessa had never understood it, until now.

 

At the time, she’d wondered how being married to Brooke could ever feel like work. But now she knows, that isn’t what the print had meant.

 

Perfect marriages don't exist, but the ones that come close to perfection don’t happen by accident. They only happen as a result of being ready to work on your own faults, so that the understanding and faith and trust in the relationship can do nothing but grow.

 

The hard part isn’t loving Brooke, because nothing has ever been easier. The hard part is Vanessa being able to look at herself and vow to always tackle her bad qualities head on.

 

Vanessa is a jealous person, and jealousy is an ugly emotion.

 

One that she can’t choose not to feel.

 

But she can choose to accept responsibility. She can choose to overcome it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke is injured in the line of duty and Vanessa struggles with the thought of how much their lives are going to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for gun violence

Vanessa is auditioning dancers when she gets the call. Or rather, misses the call. Twice.

 

Three girls, all with various shades of pastel coloured hair, are dancing on stage whilst Vanessa watches and skims down the checklist that Nina had given her. It’s her first time being trusted to audition dancers alone and she really doesn’t want to fuck it up.

 

Sultry smile - check.

 

Good personality - check.

 

Fluidity of movement - check.

 

She’s concentrating so hard on making sure that the potential new dancers are hitting all their marks that when her phone rings in her jacket pocket, she mumbles a quick apology and sends it straight to voicemail. The dancers look pissed at the interruption and she can feel her cheeks going red with embarrassment. Vanessa knows she isn't the most professional woman in the world, but she wants so badly to prove that after six years in the job, she’s more than capable at what she does.

 

Nina is starting to think about taking an early retirement so that she can take all the money she’s made and spend it on seeing the world, doing all the things that she could’ve done when she was younger instead of spending her time building this place from the ground up. If she were to leave, she’d need someone to replace her. Vanessa wants to be that someone. She knows that she’s got what it takes. Which is why when her phone rings for the second time, she sends the call to voicemail, then switches it off.

 

In hindsight, she should’ve known that nobody ever calls her during the day and so these calls should’ve stood out.

 

In hindsight, she should’ve listened to the voicemails instead of assuming it was unimportant.

 

In hindsight, if she wouldn’t have been focused on writing meticulous notes for Ariel’s audition she would’ve realised that she has a daughter in preschool and a wife who works a dangerous job, so answering her goddamn phone should always come first.

 

But hindsight is always twenty twenty.

 

-x-

 

Nina enters the room around fifteen minutes after Vanessa’s missed calls and she has a look on her face like she’s just about to tell a kid that their cat is going to live on a farm from now on.

 

The auditioning dancers are oblivious, but Vanessa feels the change in the atmosphere of the room instantly. A cold sweat drips down her spine as Nina walks closer and Vanessa feels like she can’t breathe.

 

“Congratulations, you’ve all got the job,” Nina says dryly. “Please gather up your things, we’ll contact you with the details later on in the week.”

 

The girls look back and forth between the two women in disbelief, then start to fire off questions with excitement, but Nina silences them with a quick, somber, shake of her head. “I said we’ll be in touch,” she smiles politely, then waits for them to leave the room.

 

Vanessa can’t decide whether she wants to stand up or sit down. Or shout at Nina to tell her what’s happened. Or cry. Or for the ground to swallow her whole. All she can hear is her mind screaming at her that something must be wrong. Something bad, for Nina to be looking so pale and frankly, shocked.

 

“Vanes-“

 

“What’s happened?” She can’t let Nina get the words out.

 

“I need you to stay as calm as-“

 

“Fuck being calm,” Vanessa snaps, “tell me. Is it Olivia?”

 

Nina is Olivia’s third emergency contact at preschool so it's entirely possible that if Vanessa missed the calls from them they would call her and, oh god, what if her baby girl is sick or hurt and she missed the call?

 

“It’s Brooke,” Nina tells her softly, breaking her train of thought. “She’s in the ICU.”

 

Vanessa shakes her head and takes a step away from Nina, as though being further away from the words will make them less true. She shakes her head again. No, this isn’t happening. It’s a mistake. Or a prank call. If Vanessa ever finds out which little shits have decided to prank call their office to say that Brooke is hurt then she’ll beat the shit out of them.

 

“No,” Vanessa tells Nina.

 

“Vanessa, I’m going to drive you to the hospital.”

 

“No,” Vanessa tells her again, stepping further away. She doesn’t need to go to the hospital because Brooke isnt there. She’s sitting at her desk on her lunch break scrolling through pictures of cats on instagram and eating the terrible sugar cookies that she’d made with Olivia last night. She isn’t in the ICU. She’s fine.

 

“It’s okay,” Nina says, in a tone that suggests anything but. Nina picks up Vanessa’s purse from the ground beside the chair she’d been sitting in, but Vanessa can do nothing but shake her head and refuse to accept that this is happening.

 

“What happened to her?”

 

Vanessa doesn’t know if she wants to hear the answer.

 

Nina shifts uncomfortably and places a delicate hand on Vanessa’s arm. “I’m going to tell you, but I need you to stay calm so that I can drive you to the hospital. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Vanessa stammers.

 

“She’s been shot.”

 

No. No, she hasn’t.

 

This type of thing doesn't happen. Brooke doesn’t get hurt. She keeps people safe. She’s supposed to be safe. Vanessa is cooking lasagna for dinner tonight and then they’re going to let Olivia pick a movie, so they’re probably going to have to watch Tangled for the fourth time, but that's okay. Because Brooke is safe and everything is fine.

 

Her hands are trembling and tears are streaming down her face quicker than she can wipe them away, so she doesn't bother trying. The room is spinning, yet frozen in time. Her mind is screaming, yet she could hear a pin drop. Up is down and down is up and nothing makes sense because this isn’t supposed to happen.

 

She knows that she should have questions, like how it happened or how bad her injuries are or if the person who did this to her is rotting in jail, but she can’t bring herself to ask any of them. Because the more answers she gets, the more real this becomes. And this isn’t fucking real.

 

It’s a nightmare come to life.

 

Nina must, at some point, remind her how to put one foot in front of the other because before she realises what’s going on she’s sitting in the passenger seat of Nina’s car and gazing out of the window as they barel down the highway.

 

“She’s supposed to be picking Olivia up from preschool,” Vanessa whispers faintly.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Brooke, it’s her night to pick up Olivia from school.”

 

“Oh. That’s- You don’t need to worry about that. I’m going to pick up Olivia as soon as I’ve dropped you off. Okay?”

 

Vanessa shakes her head. “Olivia has this face that she does when we pick her up from school. She looks at you like you’re her favourite person in the whole world and runs across the playground with her stupid ass light up sneakers that Brooke told me not to buy her but I bought her anyways.” Vanessa chuckles softly, then her face falls once more.

 

“And she’s going to run outa class ready to see her mommy, but Brooke isn’t going to be there.”

 

-x-

 

It’s a good job that Nina is with her, because there’s no way Vanessa could form a coherent sentence when they arrive at the hospital. It’s all gentle voices and hushed tones as they sign in at reception, which makes Vanessa want to scream. She’s never handled quietness well - it makes her feel on edge. Usually, she’s loud and brash and outspoken to fill the silence, but she can’t bring herself to say a word.

 

She’s cried off all of her makeup in the car on the way over, calling Brooke’s phone and leaving messages over and over again. As though if she tells Brooke’s voicemail that she’s on her way and everything is going to be fine, Brooke will somehow hear it.

 

Nina isn’t family, so she can’t come up to Brooke’s room. She leaves Vanessa with a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead, then heads to pick up Olivia from school. Where she’s going to have to tell her that she’s spending the night with Aunt Nina because her mommy is sick and can’t come home.

 

The nurse that leads Vanessa up to Brooke’s room is kind, but irritatingly so. She bombards Vanessa with questions. Would you like a hot drink? Would you like to take the elevator instead of the stairs? Is there anyone you need me to call?

 

Vanessa’s answer to each question is the same.

 

_“I just want to see my wife.”_

 

-x-

 

When Vanessa enters Brooke’s room, her instinct reaction is to bring a trembling hand to cover her mouth and screw her eyes shut. But when she opens them, nothing has changed. Brooke is still lying there with wires crawling out from beneath her hospital gown and a tube in her nose.

 

One of her eyes is swollen shut, her lower lip is bust and her usually voluminous hair falls limply beside her face, yet she is still the most gorgeous woman Vanessa has ever seen in her life. She looks oddly erethrial. She’s sleeping and the rise and fall of her chest is steady, her expression free from pain. It’s as though she doesn't even know she’s injured.

 

Vanessa would swap places with her in a heartbeat.

 

Officer Cain is sitting vigilantly beside Brooke’s bed and stands politely when Vanessa enters, offering her an outstretched hand to shake, but Vanessa barely even registers that she’s in the room. She moves to Brooke’s beside and crouches down to press a kiss onto her cold, clammy forehead, whispering that its okay now, because she’s here.

 

“It looks worse than it is,” Shuga offers meekly, “they’ve given her some sedatives to help her sleep, but she should come to in a while.”

 

“Worse than it is?” Vanessa yells. “My wife is laying here with a fucking bullet hole in her and you’re telling me it looks worse than it is?”

 

As soon as the venomous words leave her mouth she regrets them. Shuga is just trying to reassure her. This isn’t her fault.

 

“Sorry. Sorry, I’m just- I feel so fucking helpless right now and it’s driving me crazy,” Vanessa offers as an expalination for her rudeness. “How did it happen?”

 

Shuga pulls up another chair to the side of Brooke’s bed and they sit together whilst Shuga tells Vanessa everything. Brooke had been called to what appeared to be a regular domestic dispute. A neighbour overheard a husband and wife arguing loudly and so called the police, but when Brooke arrived she saw the man weilding a gun.

 

Procedure dictates that if de-escalation fails, she ought to remove herself from the dangerous situation and wait for backup. But then the woman had said her children were inside the house and procedure went out of the window. Brooke had gone back into the house to protect the kids and gotten shot in the process. Once, in the abdomen.

 

All of the children remained unharmed, thanks to Brooke’s bravery and lack of hesitation.

 

And even as Vanessa sees her laying there, looking so unnaturally tiny and vulnerable in her hospital bed, she knows that Brooke would do it all again.

 

-x-

 

“Do you know how long Brooke has been a cop for?” Shuga asks her after a long period of silence.

 

It’s close to three in the morning and neither woman has left Brooke’s bedside. Vanessa didn’t ask Shuga to stay, but she’s glad that she did. The only person that Vaness has turned to for comfort for over five years also happens to be the one person that she can’t talk to right now. It isn’t easy.

 

“Um, fifteen years? More maybe?” Vanessa shrugs, stifling a yawn. She’s sure that the past two coffees Shuga has brought her have been decaf.

 

“Something like that,” Shuga tells her. “And did you know that most cops stop taking the graveyard shift, out patrolling the streets looking for petty, lowlife criminals after the first couple of years?”

 

Vanessa bites back the urge to remind Shuga that she used to be one of these ‘petty, lowlife’ criminals. “I didn’t know that,” she murmurs.

 

“The reason that Brooke was never given a different assignment is that she requested to stay put. She’s denied offers for promotion or more exciting opportunities for all this time because she feels like when she’s out there, she’s protecting people. All she wants to do is keep people safe.”

 

Vanessa wants to yell. Loudly. Because first of all, this is her goddamn wife, she needs no reminder that Brooke is the most selfless person on the planet.

 

But most importantly, she’s angry. She loves Brooke’s sense of duty and honour, but where was her sense of duty to her wife and daughter when she ran into such a dangerous situation? Protecting members of the public is valiant and noble, but who would be there to protect Olivia if she wasn’t around?

 

She isn’t mad with Brooke, of course she isn’t. How could she possibly be mad at Brooke for doing something that potentially saved the lives of three children? She isnt mad. She’s terrified.

 

She’s terrified because it’s taken her all this time to fully realise how dangerous Brooke’s job is. That something like this could happen to her on any given day. She’s terrified that she’s probably not going to relax for the rest of her life because every time Brooke is at work she’s going to worry that something like this will happen again. She’s terrified that next time the outcome could be so much worse.

 

-x-

 

Brooke drifts in and out of consciousness throughout her second day in the hospital. Vanessa is there the entire time, watching anxiously as the doctors as they hook her up to various antibiotics and change the dressing on her wound.

 

They say that Brooke is lucky. The bullet missed all of her organs and stayed lodged in place, preventing too much blood loss. She won't even need surgery.

 

But nothing about this situation says ‘luck’.

 

Nina drops off a change of clothes for Vanessa and when she does, she brings Olivia with her. Vanessa goes down to the parking lot to meet them, because she doesn’t want to scare Olivia by letting her see Brooke the way that she is.

 

Olivia gives her a get well soon card to give to Brooke and it’s almost enough to send Vanessa into a meltdown right there in the parking lot, but Nina nods reassuringly and somehow she manages to hold it together. Olivia is confused when Vanessa tells her that she’s going to be staying with Nina for a few more nights, but she hesitantly agrees when Vanessa promises her that as soon as Brooke is better that they’re all going to watch Tangled and everything is going to be okay.

 

When she gets back to Brooke’s room, Brooke is sitting up in bed, looking lethargic and subdued, yet somehow more alert than she has done in two days. She doesn't say anything, simply shifts to the side of her bed, wincing in pain, then opens up her arms for Vanessa.

 

Vanessa knows that she shouldn’t, since Brooke needs to rest, but she can't stop herself from toeing off her shoes and climbing into the small bed beside Brooke. They hold one another gently and Vanessa is careful not to put any pressure on the wound on the opposite side of Brooke’s body. No amount of words would ever be enough to convey what Vanessa is feeling, so she can do nothing but cry.  

 

She cries and cries and cries and Brooke lets her, repeating soft apologies into Vanessa’s hair the entire time. Only Brooke would apologise for getting fucking shot.

 

-x-

 

Brooke is the strongest woman Vanessa has ever met, so it’s unsurprising when she starts to recover quickly. The better Brooke gets, the less crushing the feeling in Vanessa’s chest becomes. By the fourth day, she’s alert enough for visitors. She gets an abundance of cards and gifts from her colleagues and family and friends, so much so that the hospital room is starting to look like a florists.

 

Brooke claims that too many flowers in the room are starting to give her a headache, so asks the nurse to take them to other patients in the hospital, but Vanessa knows that the real reason for her giving the flowers away is that she doesn’t want the praise. She thinks it’s her job to go above and beyond what’s expected of her and that she was only doing what anyone else would’ve done.

 

It’s awful, but Vanessa almost wishes that Brooke would stay sick for a little longer. It’s disgusting and she shouldn’t think it, but the longer Brooke is injured, the longer it will be before she can go back to work and the more time it will be before Vanessa has to worry about this happening again.

 

How could she ever possibly say to Brooke “I’m so unbelievably proud of you for what you did, but for the love of God, please never do it again.”

 

On the fifth day, Brooke is ready to be discharged from the hospital, but before she can be, someone from the station comes to visit her. It’s a senior member of the force that Vanessa has never met before, saying that he’s required to debrief Brooke about the incident. Vanessa is ready to strain her vocal chords yelling at him when he asks her to leave the room, but Brooke gives her an almost imperceptible shake of the head, urging her not to.  

 

So instead, Vanessa smiles politely and leaves the room to find Brooke’s doctor to grill him about everything she can do to make Brooke more comfortable once they get home.

 

-x-

 

Over an hour passes before Vanessa is allowed back in Brooke’s room.

 

“So, what did he have to say?” Vanessa asks with a soft smile as she walks back in.

 

Brooke shrugs. “They’ve offered me a lump sum of six months salary, then six months of paid leave.”

 

“Shit.”

 

That’s a lot of money. They could start looking for a house like they’d talked about. Or they could put it all in a trust fund to send Olivia to college. It’s nowhere near worth Brooke’s life being in danger, but it’s a start.

 

“Yeah,” Brooke laughs.

 

Vanessa can sense that she’s holding something back, so she waits for Brooke to continue.

 

“When I return in six months, they want it to be as a Sergeant.”

 

“They wanna promote you?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

It’s exactly what Brooke deserves. It would mean more responsibility and authority, and definitely more money. But it would also mean longer hours and more stressful cases. More risks. More danger. More chances that they could be doing this all over again. Vanessa is proud of her wife and she wants to be happy for her but-

 

“I turned it down.”

 

“What?”

 

“Well, I quit my job, actually.”

 

Vanessa shakes her head and briefly considers turning around to chase down Brooke’s boss and tell him that she’s made a mistake. “What are you talking about, baby? You love your job.”

 

“I do,” Brooke tells her, sitting up from the bed and taking a step closer, even though it’s clearly very painful for her to do so, “but I love you more.”

 

“You know that I’d support you no matter what you want to do. You don’t have to quit just for me.”

 

Brooke nods her head, then takes Vanessa by both hands. “When it happened- when he shot me, I mean. I was laying there, slumped against the wall, bleeding out, watching those three children running out of the front door to be with their mother and I knew I’d done the right thing.” She pauses as her voice breaks. “But all I could think about was how if I died, you’d be alone.”

 

Vanessa wants to tell her to stop talking because the thought is unbearable, but she lets her go on.

 

“You’d have to sleep in our bed alone. Raise our daughter alone. At our wedding anniversary and at christmas and when you’re sad or angry or scared - you’d be alone. The life that we’ve built together, you’d have to live it alone.”

 

“Brooke, stop.”

 

“I know, I don’t want to think about it either. That’s why I can't do this anymore. I can’t do this job knowing that I’m putting myself in danger.”

 

Vanessa shakes her head again. Brooke loves her job so much, she can’t be the reason that she gives it up.

 

“What about helping people?”

 

“I thought about that. My boss said that if I go back to school I could get qualified to teach at the academy. I can teach the new cadets and they can do the protecting on my behalf. Or maybe I’ll do something completely different. All I know is that I can’t do this job anymore, Ness.”

 

Vanessa pulls Brooke into a hug, careful of avoiding her stitches, and buries her face in Brooke’s hair. “You’re sure about this?” Vanessa chokes out through her shaky tears.

 

“I’m so sure. It’s just a job. You and Olivia are my priority. Everything else is secondary.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! 
> 
> i had a prompt joined to this about brooke getting injured before they were married, but it didn’t fit in with the flow of the chapter so i’ll be publishing that separately.


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